Wrong Kind of Hero
by Curiosity
Summary: An unlikely friendship between two children upsets tradition at Hogwarts, Severus falls in love, and Lily has choices to make. Eventual AU.
1. House Is Everything

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter one: House is Everything

He watched them go, the girl Lily and her sister "Tuney"- what kind of names these Muggles gave their children, he thought with distaste- and there was a kind of sourness in his mouth, the taste of disappointed dreams. He was used to it; he got it all the time at home. He looked down at his abnormally large coat and his dirty hands and felt only sad as he watched Lily's retreating back. He so desperately wanted a friend, and she seemed so nice. She pulled her hand out of her sister's and turned back to him, curious despite her anger. She raised a hand halfway to wave goodbye, then her sister snapped at her again, she shot him a guilty look, squared her shoulders and marched away. Snape was not deterred or discouraged. He would befriend her yet. He knew things, things about her and the world she was going to. She was going to need him. She'd see.

* * *

She'd come back to the playground, to the last place she'd seen him, lured by the promise of strange and wonderful things… lured by the promise of magic. He felt his heart swell when he saw her figure approaching in the distance. Severus brushed himself off as best he could and tried to smooth his hair down inconspicuously. He knew a better place than this for them to talk, this childish playground. Lily scuffed a toe in the dirt, tracing figure eights, looking down at her feet.

"Hi," she said, sounding slightly nervous. "Sorry about Tuney. She's weird about the kind of stuff I do. Doesn't like it. Makes her nervous."

"No wonder, since she's a Muggle. No-" he said, holding up a hand as she started to glare again. "It's not a dirty word. It just means a non-magical person. She probably wishes she was as special as you."

"You think so?" Lily brightened, daring to look at him for the first time. She took in his odd-sized clothes, his long scraggly hair, his dark eyes, his long straight nose and his expressive lips. An odd boy, she concluded, but interesting.

"I know so." Snape was confident of that.

"Do you-" Lily halted, then began again. "Do you think you could tell me more about being a… witch?"

"Sure. I know a place…" he trailed off as she looked at him, her sense of curiosity piqued. "Do you trust me?" She shrugged and laughed a little.

"Sure."

"Great. You won't be sorry." He started to walk toward the trees at the edge of the playground. Lily followed. Snape stopped at the junction between two trees. "We have to climb."

"Okay." Snape climbed over first, then gave her his hand and pulled her through. He closed his eyes, still holding her hand. He seemed to be thinking hard.

"Do I need to close my eyes too?"

"No. I found it. Come on." And he led her confidently, eyes still closed, to a cherry tree in full bloom. There was a spring breeze wafting through it, and as they sat down, petals rained down on them and Lily smiled broadly.

"This is really pretty. And it smells nice."

"I thought you might like it," the boy muttered, color coming to his otherwise-pallid cheeks in wake of her praise.

"So. What's the first thing I need to know about-" She waved her hand in the air and the petals around them swirled, forming pretty little patterns before they fell.

"Being a wizard? I'll tell you."

Lily listened for what seemed like hours, rapt. She asked lots of questions, some of which seemed silly to Severus. But, he reminded himself, she was raised by Muggles. She had no way of knowing.

The time he reassured her she wouldn't be hauled off by Dementors for practicing magic outside of school and her sister dropped out of the tree was a one-time incident. Lily still came back, apologetic once more, and they found new places to talk where Petunia couldn't find them.

They spent the summer pleasantly enough that way, and Lily even managed to sneak him home one night through the back door when her parents were otherwise engaged. She put on some Muggle music and danced around on her bed to it, insisting he dance too. He was all ready to make some remark about how it was beneath his dignity, but she looked far too happy for him to crush her that way, so he just wiggled his index fingers up and down, sideways and back, meaning to move as little as possible. She dubbed the dance "the Wizard" and started doing it too. Then Snape told her he had to go, because he knew there was only a finite amount of happiness in the world, and less still allotted to him personally, and he didn't want to use up all of his happiness now and have none for later. He tried to explain this to her; she told him he was weird, but that she spoke 'barking mad' on occasion, so she thought she understood what he was trying to say.

* * *

The day they left for Hogwarts was the most thrilling of Severus's young life thus far, though he'd never let on. To be with Lily every day… To be learning magic, away from his uncaring family, where surely the teachers would notice both their innate abilities, and they would be recognized for the bright young minds they were. The scrape with James and Sirius was distasteful, but altogether thankfully brief. After they found their own compartment, Lily found it safe to remark:

"God, what awful gits those two were. I didn't like them at all, did you?" Snape's heart soared. She still liked him better than the other students she'd now met, even though they were better dressed and their robes were brand new. They were still going to keep their pact to be best friends at school.

"No. They were revolting and immature, to say the very least."

"Let's forget about them. They don't matter. Who cares about being brawny, anyway?" Lily cocked her head to one side. "You know, you look good in robes." He mumbled something that could have been 'thanks'.

"Tell me again about the Houses." Snape rolled his eyes, but obliged.

"There're four of them. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Gryffindor's where the 'brave of heart' go, but if you ask me, they're bloody stupid and reckless, most of them. Case in point: Potter and Black. Ravenclaw's for the smartest and studious, and Hufflepuff's where the- well, Hufflepuffs try hard and they mean well, but they're not exactly the cream of the crop."

"Oh," Lily said, and frowned. "I hope I don't make Hufflepuff, then."

"And Slytherin is for the purebloods. And sometimes the halfbloods. The ones from wizarding families," he clarified.

"Like you," Lily said quietly. Severus nodded at her once. "Anyway, I hope you're right. I hope we get into the same House." Then the trolley came by, wielding its enchanted sweets, and Lily was distracted by the chocolate frogs and trading cards with their moving pictures, and Snape had a hell of a time wiping the smirk off his face when one ill-timed jump landed his chocolate frog down her shirt, and then they were there, and there were the enchanted boats to squeal over. Severus just took it all in, and felt that assuredly, this place would become his home, and he would be happy here, so long as this girl was by his side.

* * *

Ah, well. He'd sort of known it would happen. He hadn't _really _expected them to be put in the same house, but all the same… it was disappointing. Lily sought him out afterward to reassure him, to make him swear up and down again that despite the rivalry between their two houses, he would not desert her or abandon her.

"Never," he said fervently, and meant it.

"Good." She beamed. "Do the Wizard!" She started wiggling her fingers like he had that summer, and he sighed, wondering why he put up with this. She ran up the moving staircase toward her common room, and he went down into the lower levels of the castle toward his, feeling curiously light on his feet, despite the lecture that was sure to follow from Lucius on his choice of companions. Maybe he could pass her off as a half-blood from the country…

* * *

"I'm not interested," Lily said firmly. She'd been putting up with this behavior for months now and she was sick of it.

"Oh, c'mon, Evans. We were just having a bit of fun," pleaded the Potter boy.

"Making his house badge say 'Greasy Git' is NOT what I call a bit of fun. Why can't you just leave him alone? Stop punishing him for being friends with me."

"Friends with a Slytherin, that's a bit rich, don't you think? You have to give those kinds of things up once you come here. Your House is everything." His rich friend, Sirius, chimed in.

"Well, my House will just have to put up with it. Besides, I knew him before we even got to Hogwarts, so it shouldn't matter."

"We'll make _much_ better friends, won't we, Sirius? Hey, Remus, come over here and say hello to Evans." A small quiet-looking boy dressed in hand-me-down robes detached himself from his place at the window and murmured "Hello" to Lily.

"Hello. I hope you have better manners than your friends." Remus had the grace to look embarrassed.

"They're just being prats. They can't help it. It's instinctual. They see a pretty girl and if they can't have her, no one else is allowed to either." Lily put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at the two sniggering, heads together, probably plotting their next prank already. "All the same, I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you. I'd appreciate that. What are you reading?"

"Oh, this? It's just a Muggle book, nothing special." He tried to hide it behind his robes, but Lily tugged it from his grasp.

"_Wuthering Heights_! I had to read that in school. My parents were Muggles too," she confessed to him.

"Did you like it? _Wuthering Heights_, I mean," Remus asked, pleased to have found another bookwormish Gryffindor.

"I did. It was very melancholy. I felt sorry for Heathcliff. He had a rough life. Then there was that one character no one could understand because his speech was completely weird."

"What're you talking about? We demand to know." Potter again, with Black in tow, clapping his hands on Lupin's shoulders and startling the poor boy, who almost jumped out of his skin. Remus sighed longsufferingly.

"Nothing you'd be interested in, James. It's not Quidditch or Lily's personal life."

"They've been speculating about my personal life? Ooh, you bloody-" She chased James around the common room, brandishing _Wuthering Heights_, while Lupin and Sirius looked on and yelled encouragement. Actually, only Sirius yelled encouragement. Lupin yelled about keeping his book in good condition.

"Don't crack the spine! For the love of God, don't crack the spine!"

Lily got in one good wallop; Arthur Weasley, the friendly red-headed prefect, broke them apart.

"Just so you know, I was betting on her, mate," Sirius said, clapping James on the back much harder than was strictly necessary.

* * *

Lucius was disappointed, as Snape had predicted. He got a lecture which, while it didn't mention Lily outright, made it very clear where Slytherin's house stance was on Muggleborns, not to mention Gryffidors. Severus was charged with holding up his noble House's standards and reputation for excellence, and to think very carefully about the allies he was going to be making in the next 7 years. They would alter his future profoundly, Lucius said, waxing eloquent about the Slytherins who had gone on to become top Ministry officials and incredibly powerful wizards. "And there are rumours," Lucius had said, "of another very powerful Slytherin who is collecting quite a following in this House. He has many supporters. Be wise, boy. We could condemn or condone you all too easily on the basis of your associations alone. Now run along and meet the other first years," he'd said genially. "I'm sure you'll make us proud. Welcome to Slytherin, and do remember the motto of our noble founder, Salazar Slytherin-"

"_Toujours pur," _Severus had muttered, already slinking away.

"Precisely."


	2. Of Magic and Muggles

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 2: Of Magic and Muggles

It was sheer luck that brought the Gryffindors and Slytherins together for Potions and Transfiguration their second year. They became Potions partners, and Severus showed a natural aptitude for the subject, as did Lily. In fact, they so surpassed everyone else in the class that they were admired by Professor Slughorn as the two most promising Potions students he had seen in a long time. Snape was not afraid to experiment and Lily was just as willing to go along with him, trying to make their potions better, perfect. She was slightly better at transfiguring things than him, but only slightly, and they spent many happy hours together experimenting with their wands and having a laugh at their mistakes.

It occurred to Lily once that the rest of their Potions class didn't stand a chance in hell with Severus and her teamed up as partners. Every time Slughorn offered a potion as a prize, they won it. And though she had no idea what she was going to do with Wolvesbane or a bezoar- Slughorn was rather random in his gifts, even to his favored Slug Club students- when she got to keep the perfect Felix Felicius potion that she and Sev had won together, Lily knew exactly what she was going to do. "Let's save it for a Hogsmeade weekend, and then we can split it. I'll drink half and you drink half."

It was a remarkable weekend. First, they heard that Sirius Black had received detention and would not be going to Hogsmeade- rather, he would be cleaning out the prefect's bathroom with a toothbrush. Then James Potter came down with a disfiguring illness that made purple spots burst out all over his body, and he was in the infirmary ward with Peter Pettigrew looking after him, so he also would not be going. Remus Lupin had declined to go, choosing instead to catch up on his Muggle Studies homework. "Justice," Snape had pronounced in a self-satisfied manner. Then Honeydukes declared Lily to be the hundredth customer of the day and gave her a huge free assortment of sweets as a reward. Luckier still, the Three Broomsticks was testing out a new take-away menu, for picnicking students, and foisted a basket of food on Snape. Madame Rosmerta declared he was exactly the kind of student customer she was looking for. As they were sitting enjoying their free feast in the abnormally pleasant day, they managed to rescue someone's pet kitten who'd got loose and was about to be run over by a wizard on a bike. The owner of the kitten in question was extremely rich, as well as the owner of a Quidditch store, and she declared that she would give them both top-of-the-line broomsticks and Puddlemere United shirts for rescuing her precious darling. Lily just grinned at Severus incredulously the whole day and kept repeating, "what a lucky coincidence! This is amazing!" Then the Captains of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams approached them both and told them that their tryouts had gone remarkably well and they'd made Chaser and Beater, respectively.

"I don't even remember trying out for the team," Severus had said, bewildered.

"Oh, I assure you, you were outstanding. Best Beater we've seen in a long time."

"But aren't I too young?"

"Nonsense. The Gryffindors have got Potter and Evans now, and they're both second years."

"This potion is brilliant!" Lily exclaimed. "This is the best day ever. I'm so glad I got to share it with you."

"Indeed."

"Indeed?" She said, making a face at him. "Can't you just admit you're happy to be with me and it was a good day? Is that so hard?" He looked away, shaking his head.

"Lily-"

"No, Sev. I know this is a very public friendship and we're from opposing Houses. I know my House disapproves; yours probably does too because my parents were Muggles. If you're embarrassed to be seen with me, just tell me." He lifted his eyes to hers.

"I'm not embarrassed. Never think that. I'm proud to be seen with you."

"Then why-"

"It's just a lot to take in. A lot of good things all at once." Lily let the subject drop. She knew Severus wasn't comfortable talking about his home life, but she also knew his parents argued a lot and that they didn't seem to take good care of him. He always had a haunted look in his eyes when he mentioned his family. She guessed that he hadn't had a lot to be happy about in his life until he came to Hogwarts. Then she had a brilliant stroke of inspiration.

"Hey, Sev? This summer, could I take you on a Muggle vacation? My parents said I could invite a friend from school if I wanted. We go for a weekend to this amusement park place. It's what Muggle kids do for fun." She was inviting him somewhere? She voluntarily wanted to spend time with him during her summer? So this was what being best friends meant. He suppressed the urge to grin, leap up and down and laud the Felix Felicius. That would have been highly inappropriate, no matter how tempting.

"I'll consider it," he said. She looked crestfallen. He quickly amended, "I've considered. I'll come."

* * *

_This trip was ill-advised_, Snape could not help but thinking as Lily showed him around the Muggle 'amusement park'. He was wearing his Puddlemere United shirt, the one from their lucky day at Hogsmeade, since it was the closest thing to Muggle clothes he had. Lily had smiled fondly when she saw him in it, approving of his choice.

"I'll pass it off as a football team from somewhere if anyone asks." Lily had insisted he not use magic on this trip, since she wanted to show him how Muggles did things. She wanted to leave his wand at the hotel they were staying at, but Severus insisted he have it with him at all times. He felt more secure that way. She sighed and acquiesced, knowing she couldn't wrestle it from him by force. He might be scrawny, but he fought hard. She'd witnessed Sirius Black learn that the hard way during spring term. Right now, she was showing him the games of skill and chance that Muggles spent their money on in hopes of winning stuffed animals. He was struggling to understand why, since she'd said the games were "rigged".

"Barely anyone ever wins, but it's fun to try."

"And these stuffed animals are so important to have because… why?" She shrugged.

"You think too much. I guess they're important because- well- okay, sometimes when two Muggles are dating each other, the boy will try to win a stuffed animal for his girlfriend. It's sort of a matter of pride." Severus frowned, fingering his wand in his back pocket. "And then she oohs and aahs over it because he's so talented or strong that he won it for her against the odds."

"It's a Muggle mating ritual?" Lily started laughing.

"I guess you could look at it that way, yes."

"But these games are impossible to win?"

"Most of the time. It's just for fun, Sev, it's not really about winning."

"Right." He marched over to the milk bottle toss. "I must knock down all three of these bottles, and I win the giant stuffed tiger, yes?"

"Well, if you do it three times in a row, then yeah," Lily said. "But no one ever does." Severus looked determined. He rolled up his sleeves, put one hand in his back pocket and one hand to toss the ball. He narrowed his eyes. One of the milk bottles was probably weighted to never fall down. He whispered a spell to lighten the weight of the bottles, then threw. He knocked them all down. The carny running the stall blinked several times, then shook his head.

"Want to try again, son?"

"Yes." He tossed the ball again, and again he knocked all the bottles down. "Again." The carny looked nervous.

"Are you sure you don't just want the turtle, son? That's a nice mid-level prize."

"No. Again." The carny cleared out the bottles and replaced them with a new set. Snape muttered the lightening charm again and threw. Lily jumped up and down and cheered.

"You did it, Sev, you did it!" The carny was forced to hand over the giant stuffed tiger to him, and he presented it in turn to Lily.

"It's yours," he said solemnly.

"I'll have to think of a name for it!" She carried her prize proudly, and while she was hugging it and stroking its soft fur, it suddenly meowed like a kitten. She looked at Snape, who was busy doing his best to look innocent. He failed miserably. She laughed and shook her head.

"No magic, you promised. We're doing things the Muggle way today."

"Who said it was magic? I might just be a skilled ventriloquist."

"C'mon, I'll show you the roller coaster." In her excitement, she did not notice the panic rising amongst the carnies at the stalls as suddenly every customer who tried their luck at the milk bottle toss was winning.

* * *

Snape stared up at the heap of twisted metal and wood with the Muggles screaming in terror and delight riding around in the cars and planted his feet firmly on the ground, shaking his head at Lily.

"Absolutely not. That thing looks like a death trap. And it's not even held up by magic! What happens when they go off the tracks?"

"It doesn't go off the tracks," she said patiently, trying to coax him toward the line. "You just go up and down and around, sort of like flying a broomstick but on a set path. Actually, it's probably a lot safer than brooms. Oh, come _on, _Sev, please? My brave tiger-winner can't be afraid of a little Muggle contraption." Damn. Now he'd have to go or look a coward. Lily's parents smiled at him encouragingly from their place on a bench with her tiger and a sour-faced Petunia. He jerked his chin toward them.

"They're not going."

"They're parents. Parents never go. They claim they get motion-sickness. I know, lame, right?" Snape gritted his teeth. He'd faced more terrifying things than this before, he was sure. He just couldn't recall them at the moment.

"Fine." Damn this girl and her persuasive ways.

"You didn't tell me they were going to strap us in," Snape hissed, alarmed as the seat buckle and head harness clicked down on them. The roller coaster slowly inched its way up the mechanical hill and he dug his fingernails into his palms. "What kind of sick sadistic people are these Muggles anyway? How is this supposed to be fuuuuuuuuuuunnnnn-" and down they went, Lily raising her arms above her head and yelling her lungs out all the while. Severus too was yelling his lungs out, but he was also frantically trying to get her to put her arms back down, clearly afraid that one of them would somehow snap off during the ride. The first time they went upside down, his eyes almost popped out of his sockets, and it was only by reminding himself not to disgrace his family, his house or himself that he refrained from shrieking that he wanted to get off. He held his breath as if by wishing hard enough, he could keep the roller coaster in the air. The second time they went upside down, this time in a corkscrew, his head snapped back against his seat and he felt bones crack. When the juddering ride finally ground to a halt, he felt like someone had cast a jelly-legs curse on him as he tried to walk out, grateful he'd survived the harrowing near-death encounter.

"Ooh, we've got to get our pictures," Lily said, tugging on his hand as she raced toward yet another counter. He followed after her weakly, wondering what on earth she was babbling about now.

"Pictures?" He managed. All he wanted was a nice dark corner somewhere where he could be violently ill in peace.

"Yeah, from when the flash went off. Oh, look, here we are. I'm giving the peace sign to the camera, and you- well, that's an interesting face," she conceded, trying to be kind. He recognized on the unmoving image of himself the sheer terror he had felt during the ride.

"Please don't buy that," he said, but it was already too late.

* * *

At the end of the day, back at their hotel, he tried to take out his wand and fix the crick in his neck, but she spotted him. Her parents had gone down to the corner store to buy some snacks, and Petunia was sulking out on the balcony.

"What's wrong?"

"Whiplash, I think you call it," he said, grimacing.

"What are you doing?"

"Fixing it."

"No, you can't! I mean, you can't use magic. You'll get a letter from the Ministry, remember?" No, he hadn't. And he'd already used magic outside school limits, not even for something life-endangering. He'd just done it to make Lily happy. To make her proud of him.

"Will you visit me in Azkaban?" She looked alarmed. "Good enough." He started to point his wand at his neck again- hanged for a goat as well as a lamb, he thought the expression went.

"Put that away. I didn't even bring my wand. You don't need it here."

"You must always carry your wand," he said, shocked by her attitude. "I cannot emphasize enough the importance of always having your wand about your person. How else can you defend yourself?" She wasn't listening. Instead, she'd placed her fingers on the sides of his neck and was pressing. Hard. Ouch. He'd never give himself up, not even under torture. At least, he assumed it was torture. "What sort of Dark Arts are you practicing on me, Lily?"

"It's how Muggles get kinks out of their necks and backs, silly. It's just a neck rub. I'm trying to fix your whiplash." Oh. He should have known that. But now she was kneading in places with her knuckles and fingers, and though her fingers coming in contact with the tension in his neck hurt, he didn't want to ask her to stop. Because it also helped, oddly enough. He felt the pain in his neck subside under the circles she was making, and then she moved to his shoulders and he sort of felt like melting again, but in a good way. He'd never thought Muggles were good for anything, but as it turned out, they had some very interesting ideas.

* * *

And later on, when his warning owl came from the Ministry and the school reprimanding him for using magic outside school grounds and in the presence of Muggles and putting him on probation, he could honestly promise he would never do it again- and he never did until he was of age. The one thing they could not make him say was that he was sorry. Every time he saw Lily with her tiger, who she had named Hephaestus (or Hep, for short), he thought that he would gladly do it all over again.

Author's note: Because CraneLee asked… _Toujours pur_, Salazar Slytherin's motto and the motto of Slytherin House, is French for "always pure", referencing his desire for only pureblood wizards to be admitted to Hogwarts.


	3. Five Kinds of Smiles

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 3: Five Kinds of Smiles

"Er. I'm pretty sure the potion isn't supposed to turn all purple and glorpy like that."

"I'm also confident that your teacup wasn't supposed to turn into a furry hat, but I never said a word."

"You just did, Sev." He sighed.

"Why do I tolerate your continued presence?"

"Because you luurve me," Lily teased, batting her eyelashes at him and clasping her hands to her breast.

"Nonsense," Snape hissed at her, but his shaking hands dropped the mandrake root into the bubbling cauldron and there was a red, foul-smelling explosion that knocked them both off their feet. Lily lay sprawled on top of him, giggling.

"You will never tell a soul about this," Severus told her, "on pain of death."

"What, that you exploded a potion?" She turned to face him, and her thigh shifted against his hip as she propped herself up on her elbows with a wry grin on her face. "Your hair's red."

"So's yours, but I don't make a fuss about it." Lily rolled her eyes at him and pushed his hair back from his face. He looked up at her, startled. She made no move to roll off him, so he held still, barely breathing as she touched his face, wiping away red soot.

"No, I mean it turned red, silly. From the powder that shot out of that cauldron just now. What were you making in there anyway, the draught of living death?" But he could not answer, because oh, her thumb was brushing his lower lip, and she stared at his face as if fascinated, and he could not get enough of her stare, of her touch. He froze, panicked, unsure of what to do next. Should he shove her away? Should he pull her closer? What was the protocol for this situation? His body was taking over his mind, which was screaming that this was wrong, all wrong, and he didn't deserve to be touched like this. His treacherous body wanted to invite her to continue for as long as she liked. He knew, then, as he had dreaded knowing before, that this Muggleborn girl was going to mean to him much more than simple friendship. His lips parted, and he could not get them to close again. He gazed at her long lashes, feeling her hands exploring the contours of his face and he daren't ask what she was doing or why. One of those Gryffindor idiots would barge in and then this moment would be over all too soon. On impulse, he sucked her finger into his mouth and licked the remnants of potion off it. She gasped a little at that, pulled her finger back out of his mouth, feigning indignation.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Severus put on his most scholarly face.

"Highly interesting. I detect a hint of peppermint. A most unexpected side effect. Does anything magical appear to be happening?"

"Er, your tongue just turned blue," she said, grabbing his tongue between her forefinger and her thumb and examining it. "Yep," she said, grinning. "Definitely blue. I'm sure it'll wear off, though. What was it we were meant to be making again?" He scowled at her as menacingly as he could with his tongue still in her possession.

"-ive 'e 'ack 'y 'ongh, 'oo ebil 'ich." She burst into peals of laughter like tinkling bells.

"Make me."

Then it was James, damnable cocky bastard James, who burst through the door, probably looking to steal one of the Professor's ingredients for his nefarious purposes. He caught them, stopped dead on the spot and blurted out, "Bloody hell, Evans, what do you think you and Snivellus are doing?" Lily colored prettily, Severus could see it from his vantage point on the ground. She quickly let go of his blue tongue and wiped her hand on her robes.

"He was helping me with my homework and the potion got away from me. I was trying to clean him up, not that it's any of your information, Potter," she said snidely, brushing herself off and standing up, then offering her hand to Snape who took it gratefully. "I don't remember making a summoning potion for arrogant gits, though," she said, folding her arms. Snape choked back a laugh.

"Make a note of it, Lily," he said, feigning alarm. "We won't wish to attempt that particular combination again any time soon."

James stood there, shaking in anger, raising his wand to hex him, probably, but Snape got there first. "Expelliarmus!"

"Please do try to grow up, Potter," Lily said as she tossed her hair, took Severus by the arm and flounced out.

* * *

It was at dinner that evening that Snape discovered just what, exactly, the disastrous potion had done, besides turning his tongue blue and getting his hair dirty. He waved Lily over to the Slytherin table, ignoring the glares all around him. Gryffindors and Slytherins, friends? It was unthinkable. Unheard of, even unprecedented, as far as anyone knew. But then, Lily hardly cared for their poor opinions of her. She sat down next to her friend and looked at him expectantly. 

"It amplifies and enhances flavours!" He was munching enthusiastically on an apple, the light of discovery in his eyes.

"Oh? Is that useful at all?" Lily asked doubtfully.

"Who cares? It's a new potion discovery, and I made it!" Caught up in his enthusiasm, Lily couldn't help but smile.

"Good on you, Sev. Good on you." She leaned in closer. "And wash your hair more often, will you? It looks nice when you bother."

"Meddling girl," he said, but he sounded secretly pleased.

"Arrogant prodigy," she shot back. "I should go sit at my House table before the Marauding terrors drag me back by my nose hair- not," she added quickly, "that I have nose hair long enough to drag by." Snape shook his head.

"I never said you did."

* * *

To tell the absolute truth, he preferred her this way, furious and wild and out of control as she raged against their close-minded classmates who disapproved of their friendship, or sweaty from Quidditch and smelling like earth and adrenaline. Not the perfect untouchable sugary-sweet confection she pretended to be in front of smarmy Potter and his idiotic friends, or the innocent smart-as-a-whip honor student she showed to the Professors, or even the loyal dutiful daughter and sister she was at home. None of those things were really Lily. The real Lily didn't giggle and bat her eyelashes as she sweetly told Potter to fuck off; the real Lily knew what the word Mudblood meant; the real Lily felt the burden of her heritage on her shoulders like a dead weight she lugged around, but she pretended it didn't matter so that maybe it wouldn't. He'd seen her at her worst, crying and gritting her teeth in frustration and swearing a blue streak but unwilling to give up or in… and he liked her better that way. At least it was _honest_. When she was angry, or just not thinking as she poured herself into flight and the game, she was beautiful, and more importantly, she was real. She wasn't some untouchable goddess on a pedestal when she was with him. She said things like "those fuckers just don't get it" and "who cares about them anyway when I have you" and "my blood was red, not brown, last time I checked". James Potter didn't know the real Lily Evans, he just idolized her for something she wasn't. Snape had told Potter as much once, catching him mooning after her again. 

"She's not spun from moonbeams and stardust, you idiot! She's made of better things, real things, like chocolate chip cookies and how the air smells right after it rains and smudged pinkie fingers because she's left-handed and always gets her hand in the ink before it dries when she writes, and-" Oh, fuck. He loved her.

Potter had said, bewildered,

"Evans is left-handed?"

"You just proved my point. You can have her when you can tell me how many smiles she has, and what they all mean," he challenged Potter and left him standing there with a furrowed brow, furiously muttering "smiles… she's got more than one smile?" Severus knew then that Potter would never be good enough for her. Lily had overheard the whole conversation, and she slung an arm around Snape's shoulder as they walked away.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're wonderful?"

"I'm observant," he corrected her. "Unlike Potter."

"No, really. That was brilliant. You just _get_ me, Sev. Like nobody else does." He'd flushed red and ducked his head down, embarrassed by her praise but pleased because she'd noticed. "So tell me, how many smiles do I have?" He tried to laugh it off and distract her with talk of professors and even, when he ran out of anything else to say, juicy school gossip, but she persisted. "How many?"

"Five," he said almost inaudibly. She considered this for a while.

"You'll have to tell me what they all mean sometime."

"Sure," he said, not really meaning it.

"I think you've got three. You don't smile very much," she added apologetically. "You've got your 'I'm-better-than-you' smirk, which you use a lot, but I don't know if it counts because it's sort of sadistic, really. And you've got your surprised smile, when something catches you off-guard and you have no choice but to be happy about it."

"Sounds about right," he said dryly. "So what's my third smile?"

"Well, sometimes I'll catch you with this really genuine smile on your face. It's small and close-lipped, but there's this light behind your eyes when you do it that makes it look like you're thinking about the thing you love most in the whole world. That one's my favorite, actually," she confided. Oh, bugger. She'd noticed his 'Lily-smile'. Reflexively he covered his mouth with his hand, just in case he was doing it now. Lily rolled her eyes and took his hand away.

"I said I liked it, you dolt. I just wish I was-" _the cause_, she thought. Then her eyes widened with horror at almost having said that out loud. "I wish you'd do it more often, I mean. Heh." Nervous laughter, check. Twitchy eyes, check. She was lying, and it showed. "Igottagoseeyoulater," she said, and bolted before she could make a further fool out of herself.

* * *

They practiced Quidditch together sometimes and shared team secrets and the keys to a locker room they'd nicked from their Captains- they traded every other week as to whose locker room it was. The sharing of secrets, they figured, was fair since it worked both ways, and both teams' strategies improved as a result of their communication, since both thought they had exclusive information on the other. It made things more interesting, anyway. Severus was starting to get tongue-tied around Lily, though, when from the other side of the locker she'd call to ask if he'd seen her other sock around anywhere, standing there in a sports bra and low slung Muggle pants. She seemed relatively unconcerned by her new curves, but it was all Snape could think about sometimes when they were flying around. He let one of his own Bludgers come back and hit him in the shin because he was too busy staring after her and how her Quidditch uniform fit her more tightly than it had two months ago.

Lily, of course, was noticing the changes in Sev as well- his voice had dropped from its nasal quality when they were kids to a pleasant baritone. He was much taller than he'd been before, and when he was changing shirts she noticed he'd grown a line of dark hair from right above his belly button before she quickly averted her eyes, blushing. She didn't dare speculate on how far down it continued, but it was certainly a new development.

* * *

James Potter was the youngest Seeker in years. It was absolutely unheard of to put a first or even second year on the team, but he was really good. Lily had to give him that. However, he'd been bragging about it to anyone who would listen for the past three years now, and she happened to be an excellent Chaser for a third-year. Who didn't brag. He kept asking her out every match, and it was really getting annoying. The first time he did it she almost fell off her broom. 

"Don't you have a Snitch to catch?" She yelled at him. "And Hufflepuffs to beat into submission?"

"Well, yeah, but will you go with me?"

"When hell freezes over, Potter."

"Always nice talking to you, Evans." And on and on it went. He started cornering her in the library when she was studying. He'd moon about outside the girl's dormitory window at night wailing,

"Evans… lovely Evans, put me out of my misery and come to Hogsmeade with me." She'd always try to hex him; he'd always dodge away.

"How many smiles do I have," she taunted him, and he'd frown and shrug and ask,

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!"

"62."

"Thank you for playing, but you are not a winner. Please, don't try again soon."

Once he flew her broom up to her window and started warbling away, the dolt, with Sirius and Peter humming along on the ground like some kind of barbershop quartet minus one. Remus had put his foot down and refused to take part in this particular brand of idiocy.

"L, is for the way you look at me…"

"You mean with utter loathing?"

"O, is for the only one I see…"

"Wonderful, now he's gone blind."

"V, is very very extraordinary…"

"It's extraordinary that none of my hexes have hit you yet, yes. You're barking mad!"

"E, is for Evans. You. Me. Hogsmeade. A butterbeer built for two."

"Thanks, but I'd rather date the Giant Squid. Try your act out on Delia over there. I'm sure she'd love it."

"Just one date!"

"How many smiles?"

"17?"

"Go away, James." It never seemed to deter him.

* * *


	4. Howling at the Moon

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter four: Howling at the Moon

Severus pinned her in the Forbidden section of the book stacks and Lily didn't know what to do about it. Her book thudded to the floor unnoticed. She'd just been minding her own business, researching her latest assignment in Potions and Severus had snuck up on her.

James Potter had tried the same thing on her earlier and she'd kneed him solidly in the groin and run off. He'd asked her out the next day, saying he liked a girl with spirit. It didn't help matters that he was still walking funny. She'd said no, of course, and she'd threatened to try it again, but he told her he'd come prepared- he was wearing a cup. He was persistent, that Potter. What kind of sick joke did he think he was playing anyway? And calling her Evans. Ugh.

But back to her present predicament. Severus was pinning her against the bookshelves, clearly trying to get her attention, and here she was worrying about Potter. Maybe she should knee _him _in the groin, too? No, upon reflection, she didn't want to hurt Sev. She wanted to lean into his touch and go all googly-eyed at his intense gaze.

"You know, your eyes aren't actually black," she said, highly interested in her discovery. "I can distinguish your pupils from here. They're really just incredibly dark brown, but no one's ever got close enough to notice the difference."

"Lily, you have to listen to me. There'll be time to give running commentary on my eyes later. I know Lupin's secret! He's a werewolf." _Bother. Also bugger and bollocks_. Lily was feeling alliterative today. _What a load of bosh_, she wanted to exclaim, but she had her own doubts. Ever since that class on identifying werewolves and vampires in DADA.

"Sev, that's a bit extreme, don't you think?"

"He disappears every month around the full moon, and he always looks sickly and pale. No one goes near the Shrieking Shack around then because of the howling. And his bloody friends disappear with him, and they always look exhausted the next day." _His nickname is Moony_, Lily thought, bothered by the idea. Not that Remus might be a werewolf, but that he'd keep secrets from her— that he didn't trust her.

"But Remus is sweet! He'd never hurt a soul." Her powers of argument and logic were being wildly distorted by Snape's proximity. Her hip was sort of pressing up against his thigh, and there were lots of jutting angles and sinews to him up close that she'd never been aware of before. He was at least half a head taller than her, and her eyes were level with this pulse pounding in his long neck. He had a prominent Adam's apple from this perspective, and Lily's heart was racing. It was a revelation. He smelled delicious and musky, and her eyelids were fluttering closed, in anticipation of what, she wasn't sure. He was trying to tell her one of her friends was a menace to society, not confess his undying love for her.

"Maybe not on purpose, Lily," he was saying, "but he can't control what he does when he's a werewolf. Don't you remember what his Boggart was in second year? It went by fast, but before he turned it into a beach ball it was a glowing orb. It was the moon. I'm sure of it."

"So? So what if he is a werewolf. He hasn't attacked anybody."

"No? He almost killed me. One of Potter's brighter ideas, telling me about that knot in the Whomping Willow."

"What are you talking about?" Ooh. He had dark stubble. She wondered what it would feel like to rub her cheek against it.

"Just trust me, Potter and his friends are no good. For you, me or anyone else. They keep dangerous secrets. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"Thanks for your concern, Sev. I'll keep that in mind." Just once touch. Just rub her hand against the stubble and satisfy her curiosity. Oh. Oh, wow. The texture was amazing. She heard a little cooing "oooh" noise, and only belatedly realized it was coming from her.

"Lily, I'm quite aware I haven't shaven yet today. Or was there something else you were calling to my attention with this display?" Oops. She was still doing it. But there was his hair, right there and oh so very touchable, and she had such a crush on guys with long hair, and— no. She pried her hand off him with her other hand, then realized how awkward that looked, so she waved her touched-the-stubble arm with the hand holding it.

"Haha… I'm obviously not feeling well, so I'll just, um,"

Snape took a step backward, frowning, and that was all the space Lily needed to make her escape. Her fingers reached for his stubbled cheek one last time and she smacked herself on the hand, muttering "bad fingers. No cookie," as she sidled away. And immediately ran into James in the next book stack over, holding out his arms to embrace her when she bumped into him.

"Finally come to our senses and given up on Snivellus, have we?"

"Sod off, Potter," she said, shoving him away.

* * *

He was not a Gryffindor. He was not brave. He was cunning. That was the whole point. Potter was brave. Stupid, but brave. He went after what he wanted, while Snape— well, sat in the shadows waiting to be noticed but not doing anything about it, either. His skin still tingled from the places they'd touched and he sighed, wondering if his luck would ever change. 

Mulciber and Avery noticed him, though. Mulciber recommended to Lucius that Snape be introduced to their leader. The rumors had started, of a Dark Lord rising, a very powerful dark wizard who was building an army to raise against Mudbloods.

"Our Lord sympathizes with your unfortunate situation, Severus," Avery had said. "He offers a way out and a way up, if you seek recognition of your talents without the blot of your Muggle father getting in your way. But you must prove to us where your loyalties truly lie." He hadn't said it, but Snape heard the underlying message clearly enough. Lucius had warned him about it in first year. _This friendship of yours with the Mudblood girl: It must cease._

"Sod off, Mulciber," he'd wanted to say, and he got as far as "sod" before the offer tempted him. To get rid of his abusive father for good- to carve out a better life for his mother and himself, to rid himself of his embarrassment and shame at having an alcoholic Muggle for a father…

"What does he want me to do?"

"Just come to one of our meetings and see what you think," Lucius's insidious voice had whispered, luring him with promises of power and recognition, of being known for his genius and appreciated. And yet, there was Lily, and he could never abandon her, no matter what they said. His loyalties were torn.

* * *

"Look, I understand wanting to fit in, Sev, really I do. But not like this. You surely don't believe that Muggleborns are— are mud, do you? That we're not good enough for you? That _I'm_ not good enough?" 

"No, no, of course not," he reassured her hastily.

"I don't like your Slytherin friends, Sev, and I hate that derogatory word. And I hate that you're spending time with those Death-Eater sympathizers."

"Yeah, well, I'm not too keen on the fearsome four either, but they seem good enough for you. Even creepy Lupin and poncy Potter. He fancies you, you know."

"I hate him. You know I do. He's an arrogant toerag. I don't need you to tell me that." Snape's spirits lifted. She couldn't be that mad at him if she was willing to insult Potter, then. There was still a chance. He practically floated down the courtyard as they walked together, almost touching, trading insults about Potter.

"I just don't want you to become like them, that's all. They're soulless, and it scares me to death to think of you becoming some bitter vindictive husk."

"That won't happen. I have you to hit me upside the head with a frying pan if I exhibit any antisocial tendencies- well, more than I've got already," he amended as she started to conjure something metallic with a handle.

"Alright then." So that was that.

* * *

In the Gryffindor Common Room, deserted except for five students, Remus was content to carry on a conversation with Lily from his comfortable chair by the fire. An incorrigible Sirius was sitting with his arms around his lover looking for all the world like he wanted nothing more than to be Lupin's lapdog. He and Remus made an adorable couple, though neither of them dared admit it around anyone but James or her. Remus could tame the savage beast in Sirius with just a look and a murmured, "perhaps I'll sleep alone tonight," and instantly Padfoot was on his best behavior. It sent her into fits of laughter when anyone referred to Sirius as a handsome devil and a ladies' man, when she knew he was secretly in love with the studious Lupin. James, meanwhile, had booted a stray second-year out of his seat to be near his friends and pretend to study. 

"What fresh hell is this," Lily muttered as James approached her with what looked like a book of Muggle poetry. Remus and Lily both groaned together as they witnessed James dog-ear a page in the poetry book and then crack the spine as he cleared his throat to read. Remus looked pained and Lily covered her face in her hands.

"If that had been Sirius, I would have broken up with him," Remus admitted.

"That was pretty painful."

"What are you two whingeing on about? It's just a book. And I haven't even started reading yet."

"_Just_ a book?" Lily said, a strain in her voice. She and Remus shared a significant look.

"He'll never understand," Remus said, throwing up his hands in despair. "He is one of the unwashed masses and alas, sadly not a bibliophile." Lily shook her head at James.

"I think I might cry." James looked alarmed and slightly sick.

"No, no Evans, please don't cry! Anything but that! I'll do a _Reparo_ on the book, okay?"

"I suppose that will have to do," she said, sighing. "Now, Remus, what were you saying about _Pride and Prejudice_?" Sirius whispered something in his ear; Remus blushed and swatted him on the arm.

"Bad dog! Behave!"

"Ahem!" James said loudly. "Evans, listen up. This is about you. '_She walks in beauty like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies-_'"

"Something about Elizabeth Bennett's prejudices being less founded in truth than Darcy's, which were indeed mostly accurate, if a bit cold-hearted?" Remus hazarded, squeaking in protest as Sirius started to tickle him. Lily smiled fondly at them.

"'_And all that's best of dark and bright, meets in her aspect and her eyes_-'" James continued belligerently, despite no one paying attention to him.

"Well, at least he didn't pick _The Flea_," Peter murmured from his perch by the fireplace. Remus and Lily grinned at each other, getting the joke. Sirius frowned and looked askance at James, who was frantically searching in his book for the poem in question.

"Here it is, Padfoot. It's-" he scanned it quickly, "about this bloke who wants his girl to shag him, so he's telling her that this flea that bit them has mingled them together, so what's the big deal about sex, and she' s all in a snit, so she kills it-" He looked more and more bewildered as he read.

"Muggles sure do use bizarre imagery for love. A flea." Sirius snorted. "Certainly not what I'd pick."

"I think that's the point," Remus said indulgently. "It's meant to be funny."

"Oh. Is it?"

"So what do you say, Evans? Impressed by my talent at poetry?"

"You didn't write that, James, Lord Byron did."

"Yes, but I read it very charmingly, don't you think? I'd say an effort like that deserves a date."

"How many smiles?"

"Why are you so hung up on that, Evans?"

"Like Sev said, you'll be worthy of dating me when you know how many and what they all mean. Then I'll know that you've taken the time to study what makes me happy and get to know me, not just persist in asking me out because you have some sick kind of grudge against me."

"I do not have a grudge-"

"Well, then you must really like rejection."  
"Sometimes I wonder," James said.

"Why don't you go ask out some girl who actually likes you, who wants to date you? There are plenty, trust me. They all tell me I'm crazy for saying no to you."  
"Listen to them, then!"  
"Why do you keep bothering?"

"'_Because I like you, Evans'_ isn't enough?"

"You don't like me, James. You don't even know me, and the bits of me you do know about you don't like. Like my friends, who you keep playing pranks on. The idea of going out with a pretty girl who'd look good on your arm appeals to you. You keep pursuing me because you like the thrill of the chase, the challenge of gaining something impossible. Once I said yes to you, you'd lose all interest in me anyway."

"So you're doing me a favor by rejecting me to keep my interest?"

"I never said I wanted to keep your interest."

"Well, if your theory is right, then go out with me and I'll stop bothering you because I'll lose interest. And what if you're wrong? Have you ever thought about that, Evans? That maybe I won't get bored with you? You have to give me a chance first." Lily was grasping at straws here. She'd almost run out of cutting remarks. Then she thought of something true.

"Maybe I like someone else, James."

"That's a flimsy excuse. I haven't seen you go out with any boy in all our time at Hogwarts. The only guy you hang around with except us is Snivellus, and-" Lily glared at him.  
"Don't call him that." James stared hard at her.

"Oh, you can't be serious!"

"She's not. _I'm_ Sirius." Remus and Peter groaned simultaneously.

"What? Someone had to say it, might as well be me."

"You are not in love with that… that… greasy hideous git," James spluttered.

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to you insult my friends," Lily said, furious tears blinding her. "Goodnight Peter, Remus, Sirius."

"Wait, Evans! Just listen! You've got four smiles! Or was it three? Anyway, I've been counting. I don't know what they all mean yet, but I'll figure it out, I swear-" It was too late. She was gone.

* * *

_Thank Merlin for these lovely two-way mirrors_, Lily thought for the tenth time as she contacted Severus. 

"Hey. I was just thinking about you," he said. The mirror showed him sitting at his desk. She was cross-legged on her bed, rather bored. "What's going on?"

"James Potter is going on. He seems to think Muggle poetry and flowers shooting out the end of his wand are the way to win me over." Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Are you implying that's not the way into your affections?"

"Ha ha," she said. "You more than anyone should know the way to my heart." Snape lowered the first eyebrow and raised the other one. "Truth, Sev. I don't need all the frilly trappings of romance. I just want—" she broke off in frustration, sighing.

"You just want?" He prompted.

"Oh, never mind. You know he's calling himself 'Prongs' now?" In the background, a boy's voice could be heard yelling,

"Merlin's fuzzy knickers, James, get away from that-" There was a loud crash and a bang.

"Too late. I've gotta go, Sev. I think Potter might have just hexed himself and I won't miss the opportunity to get pictures." The image of Lily in the mirror faded, and Snape was left alone with his thoughts. They were, for a change, quite pleasant.

* * *


	5. Wither and Bloom

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 5: Wither and Bloom

"So tell me, what's with the stupid nicknames?" Lily demanded as she cornered Remus, hands on hips. "James is Prongs- so he's named after a deer, for some reason. Peter's Wormtail, so he's a rodent of some sort. Sirius is Padfoot, and aside from the obvious connection to his name, he's some kind of dog. And you're Moony… I know someone who has a theory on that, actually, but it's sort of hard to believe." She was saying it flippantly, but he grasped her by the forearm and looked at her, deadly serious.

"You can never tell anyone about this, Lily." Her eyes widened. "You have to promise to keep our secret."

"You mean you're really a werewolf?" Lupin hesitated, and then nodded. _Sev was right. I should have believed him._

"I wanted to tell you, but the Headmaster convinced me that the fewer people knew about my condition, the better. Not everyone accepts weres as human."

"Oh, but I'm sure it wasn't your fault," Lily exclaimed sympathetically, then winced at how trite and stupid that sounded.

"No. I was bitten when I was a very small child. James and Peter and Sirius guessed, and now they help me through my transformations. I'm dangerous around humans, but other animals keeping me company keeps me saner, anchors me to myself."

"So that would make the others…"

"Animagi. They're not registered. That's why you can't tell anybody."

"Of course I won't," she said, already thinking guiltily of Sev. This would be the first thing she'd ever kept from him. She wondered if he kept secrets from her, too. Lily guessed it would be only fair, but it still made her sad. This was important, though. A lot of people could get in a lot of trouble if she let anything slip. Sev would think it was his duty to announce it to the school, because he didn't understand that Remus was a bloody pacifist, for crying out loud.

"Of course I'll keep your secret," she said again. "You know you can trust me."

"I know. If I can trust you with my first-edition hardback books, I can certainly trust you with the truth about my condition." Lily smiled.

* * *

She told Severus about James's pursuit of her in a fit of giggles and consternation as they walked alongside the lake. 

"He just doesn't seem to understand 'not in a million years'. Dear me, Sev. Am I speaking Parseltongue?"

"I could hex him," he suggested brightly.

"Don't tempt me."

"I'm also a brilliant Beater," he said, clearly warming to the idea. "The next time our Houses play each other, I could hit him with a Bludger before he can blink. Knock some sense into him."

"Would you?" She looked up at him, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Not too hard, mind, just enough to get the message across."

"Trust me, it would be my pleasure."

"Thank you, Sev, you're my hero." She flung her arms around him- she was doing a lot of that to people lately, and had known it was only a matter of time until she tried it out on her best friend as well. He hardly knew what to do with his own hands. His body locked up again, going stiff and rigid as hers relaxed into him. He tentatively patted her on the back, feeling supremely awkward. He had not had experience with hugging since he was a small child. When she squeezed him tighter, showing no signs of letting go, he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, grimacing, and allowed her to put her head on his shoulder.

"I saw that," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "It wouldn't be so awful if you'd just relax. You're stiff as a board, Sev. It's like you've never been hugged before."

"Not since I was nine," he said quietly, and her head jerked up.

"You're joking." She looked closely at him, still holding him. "You're not joking." He shook his head once. "Oh." She stroked a hand feather-light down his spine, and one by one his muscles unclenched as he matched her deep breaths in and out. They stood there for a while, just holding each other, long past any pretence of comfort or relief or gratitude. She felt warm and her hair smelled like strawberries. Snape felt her knees start to buckle and he caught her, gently lowering both of them to the soft grass.

"Feeling alright, there, Lily?" She leaned back and curled herself into him, head on his chest, one arm draped over him, closing her eyes. He swallowed, his heart pounding. She must not realize what she was doing, or to whom she was doing it. Well, if he died of a heart attack, at least he'd die happy.

"Fine, thanks. I think I'm just tired. Studying for exams, I'm sure. Pulled one too many all-nighters, and it's not exactly as if my common room is a quiet and restful place to study." She pulled a face. "With those four loons setting off games of exploding snap and sneaking up on people in that ruddy invisibility cloak of theirs. I'm just gonna-" she yawned expansively, "-relax for a bit. Friends?"

"Best friends." Then she fell asleep on him. Trapped beneath her, his leg starting to go numb, he had no choice but to lay back and listen to her steady breathing, awake and damned to yearn for her without hope and without surcease for pain. The ache in his heart was comprised of all those feelings which he denied himself except when he was with her: exquisite agony and desire and happiness and need. Because it was true, he needed her, and he feared her because he needed her and dared not tell her. She was a beautiful wildflower he dared not pick, for he did not want to wither her, as she surely would in his hands. As all things did in his hands. Yet he could not release the dream of having her, foolish as it was. He had never been offered this trust before, this concern for his welfare, this companionship; he was not among those favored by fortune who could casually brush away such devotion and care because they are offered it so often by so many. Rather, he clasped anything she offered him greedily to his chest and lashed out, snarling, when anyone threatened to take her from him, be they Slytherin prefects or Potter and his cronies.

She slept on, unaware.

* * *

Lily was in a dream. She was in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It had been transformed into a stunning ballroom. Everywhere masked dancers twirled, the men dressed as princes and the women in stunning gowns. Lily looked down at herself. She was wearing an emerald green number, presumably to set off her eyes. A masked figure swept her away and they started dancing. She tried to change the color of her dress - it was supposed to be her dream, after all- or wake herself up. She could do neither. It appeared someone had sent her this dream and she was trapped in it until it ended. 

"Leaving so soon?" asked her partner. "Stay awhile. Dance with me. You look lovely tonight."

"I want to see your face," she said, and he said it was impossible. She must not know his identity. The lights dimmed, then snuffed out altogether. The music faded away.

"But if you wish, now that you cannot see me, you may take off my mask." She did wish, very much. It was most curious that he would not reveal himself. She took off the mask and started to trace the outlines of his face with her hands, seeking clues to his identity. She hoped— but of course, that would be silly, Sev would never be this bold— and yet, could it be?

"Come to the Yule Ball with me." Her suitor kissed her, and she felt herself leaning into his arms, into his warm embrace, still wondering who he could be, hoping she was kissing who she thought she was. The word 'yes' was on her lips, and then he whispered something in her ear:

"You're rather good at this, Evans." The dream bubble popped. She jerked awake, gasping for breath. _What a nightmare!_

"AUGH!"

"Lily, what's wrong?" Severus, wonderful Severus's voice was filled with concern for her. That's right. She'd fallen asleep on him. Despite being bony and (she thought privately) underfed, he'd made a surprisingly comfortable pillow.

"Potter again. I'll kill him for this, he's just too cruel." She allowed herself to soak up the sensation of his arm holding her close, his steady heartbeat matching her breathing, his body solid and warm and smelling of boy. Sev had let her be this close to him and he hadn't protested once. She supposed he'd had no choice, since she'd fallen asleep before he could try to move her off him, but still. _My Sev. Mine, _she thought possessively, hugging him close.

"Urk… Lily?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't breathe." Oops. Maybe a little _too _possessive.

Using her love for Severus against her was a low, dirty trick, perhaps the worst one Potter had ever played on her. Oh, right. Potter. She had to go kill Potter. She stomped away, brandishing her wand, out for blood.

"Where is he, Peter?"

"I- I don't know," the small pudgy boy stammered, choked as he was since she'd lifted him up by the collar of his robe.

"Tell me, or I'll lay a _Furnunculus _on you on top of a jelly-legs curse and it _won't_ be pretty."

"The others hid him away somewhere. They thought you might come looking for him and they wouldn't tell me. They knew I might cave under pressure. I really don't know, Lily! Please put me down." She growled under her breath, but released Peter, muttering curses against all Marauders.

* * *

She and Severus were walking together the next day, and he'd just brought up the topic of the Yule Ball. 

"Do you have a date yet?"

"No," she admitted, sighing.

"Me neither. No big shock there." He looked away from her, staring fixedly at a portrait of Cedric Weathermufflington the Pretentious. "Maybe we could go together," he said in a strangled voice. "In solidarity. You know, since neither of us have dates." Lily's smile lit up the corridor, and he couldn't help catching a reflection of it in one of the silver vases they passed as they walked.

"That would be-"

Lo and behold, James Potter popped up seemingly out of nowhere, blocking her path.

"So I take it we'll be going to the Yule Ball together, Evans?"

"Not on your life."

"I don't know about that, you seemed to enjoy my attentions well enough in your dream. You were rather enthusiastic about kissing me back, as I recall." Snape looked from an embarrassed Lily to a smirking James and back again.

"Oh," he said, and started to walk away from the two bickering Gryffindors, shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I thought you were someone else," Lily spat at James, then raced after her friend.

"Sev, wait!"

"You're going to the Yule Ball with Potter?" He asked quietly, not looking at her.

"No, I'm not! He sent me this dream I couldn't get out of and while I was trapped, he tricked me. He kissed me, but I couldn't see his face."

"He said you enjoyed it. Did you?"

"Yes, but I enjoyed it because I thought he was-" Snape waited patiently for her to finish the rest of her sentence.

"You, dammit. I thought he was you!" Snape looked up at that, dark eyes wide in disbelief, mouth hanging open in an 'o' of shock. Lily's face was bright pink, but she looked him squarely in the face. "So I'd like to go to the Yule Ball with you, if the offer's still open." Snape swallowed.

"Not as friends?"

"Well, not unless that's what you'd prefer, no."

"Lily?"

"Yes?"

"I say this in all love: shut up and listen. I never dreamed that you would return my… my feelings toward you." She reached out and intertwined her fingers with his, squeezing his hand gently. "I can say in all honesty that there is nothing in this world I would rather do than take you to the Yule Ball as both my best friend _and_ my date."

"Oh, good. I thought I was going to have to blackmail you into taking me." She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "You know this will cause all kinds of trouble. James will try to hex you again."

"To hell with him." Snape was just courageous enough this once to initiate the hug himself. Neither of them were willing to do anything more about their feelings for each other at the moment, but hugging was proving to be quite enough. Lily returned his embrace, knowing this was right where she was meant to be, and she was happy.

* * *

They went to the Yule Ball together, and they were harassed and jeered both by her friends and his. 

"Stay away from that greasy git, Evans, or it'll be the worse for him," was the message the Marauders sent her in person, and she slapped James in the face and told off the other Marauders in no uncertain terms that they should know better.

"Stay away from wizards who are better than you," was the message she received from the other Slytherins in the form of a Dark Mark burnt into her bed.

"Stay away from girls too pretty for you," was the message the Marauders sent Snape by way of pummeling before the dance.

"Stay away from Mudbloods, Severus, what do you think you're doing, disgracing the house like that?" was the message from his friends in Slytherin house.

But all he could think about was her. All he could care about was her, and the fact that she was going with _him_- not Potter- to the Yule ball, and his juice must have been spiked with Felix Felicius because he was the luckiest man alive. In the history of ever.

They were beautiful together, contrasting perfectly- fiery reds and somber blacks speckled with stars swirling around the dance floor, lost in each other's eyes.

"You have five smiles," he said by way of conversation, feeling terrified and stupid and brave all at once as they danced. _Now or never_, he told himself, even though really there was no urgency. "You have a smile that's more of a grimace, accompanied by an eye-roll. Smile #2 is a quirky genuinely-amused smile. Smile #3 is a polite 'you're an idiot and I'm not really listening' smile for adults. Smile #4 is a soft faraway smile for when you're thinking about something happy."

"And Smile #5?" _Just say it, _he told himself, _what's the worst that can happen?_

"Smile #5 is like the sun coming out. It lights up your whole face, and it's ear-to-ear. And you do it when…" He took a deep breath and plunged off the edge of the world. "When you're looking at me. When I've done something wonderful."

"Like right now." They didn't say anything for a long time, just stood there smiling at each other like idiots, arms around each other. "Everyone's staring at us," Snape noted with his peripheral vision.

"Well, let's give them something to stare at," Lily whispered in his ear, and kissed his cheek. "That was to give you courage." She kissed his other cheek. "That was for luck." She wanted this. She'd chosen him. He no longer had any doubts.

"And this," he said, moving closer to her lips with his— they were less than an inch away now, "is for me." He kissed her softly on the lips. When he pulled back, she stared into his eyes with her piercing green ones and said,

"That was nice. Let's do that again sometime."

* * *


	6. Poisoned ApplesThe Fairest of Them All

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 6: Poisoned Apples and the Fairest of Them All

Their first kiss was sweet, gentle, chaste and very short, due to all the people watching them. Their second was not. Lily was ever the model student, so she had an excuse to be wandering the school grounds late in the evening for her Herbology something-or-other project with Snape in tow. Why she was doing this on the night of the Yule Ball, still in her dress, was slightly more questionable.

"Can I kiss you again?" She heard herself asking, and Sev's grip on her hand tightened as he drew in a sharp breath.

"You could," he hedged, "but perhaps it would be better if I kissed you first." Lily had worried about knowing what to do when a boy finally kissed her, but all her older friends had told her it was instinctual and if she just stopped thinking about it too much, her body would take care of the rest. Severus was lowering his lips to hers now, intent on kissing her and nothing else, and she shut out all other thoughts.

First kisses are awkward, and second kisses sometimes even more so. Take Sirius and Remus, for example. During their first kiss, Remus was so nervous he tried to turn it into a forehead peck and Sirius tried to follow his lips up with disastrous results— Remus turned at the last second so all Sirius got was a mouthful of neck and hair, with a trembling, nervous Remus trying to turn the whole affair into a platonic hug. Sirius eventually got fed up with waiting, took matters into his own hands, tilted Remus's chin toward him and kissed him anyway. Then neither of them were sure how to end a kiss, so they sort of kept at it for five minutes until Remus forgot to breathe through his nose and almost fainted. Even James bumped noses with the girl in question on his first kiss, and then got part of his lip caught in her braces. He still winces whenever he sees wire cutters. The point is not whether the kiss goes smoothly and without incident, or whether nerves and madly scrambling brains get in the way of the intended romance. The depth of feeling on both parties involved makes all the difference. If there is love enough, and desire enough, all other faults can be glossed over.

And so it was that despite inexperience on both parts, Lily and Severus were able to enjoy their first few kisses immensely, if only because the long anticipation was finally over and the sensations were new and different. Lily pulled back between kisses, breathing heavily and with a strange heat pooled low in her belly, feeling Sev trembling like a leaf as he held her against him, hands tangled in her hair. She dived back in just as enthusiastically, remembering the truism _practice makes perfect_, and (eventually) it did.

* * *

"Enjoy the dance?" Lily asked Remus when they got back to the dorm that night. Remus colored slightly and nodded. 

"Did you get to dance with Sirius at all?"

"We managed," he acknowledged. "We each took half of a lesbian couple who also weren't quite out of the closet yet, and then we swapped partners. Sirius's dancing, on the other hand, was abysmal. I suspect he had a hand in spiking the punch. And you? Was it everything you dreamed and more?"

"Yeah," she said quietly, smiling. "It really was."

"Then I'm happy for you," Remus said firmly, squeezing her hands. "I think maybe I should go be the voice of reason now. James is threatening to fly off the Astronomy tower, and Sirius is egging him on. I love the boy, but you have to admit they're idiots when you put them together."

* * *

The night Lily saw the three Marauders in their Animagi states was the night she began to soften toward Sirius, if only for Remus' sake. She hadn't realized it was him, of course. She'd just been about to head back to the castle as the sun went down, carrying her broom under her shoulder, hair tousled from a wild and exhausting race against Sev that had culminated in a thrilling mid-air almost-collision and kiss. Then the black dog pranced up to her. Really, that was the only way to describe its goofy walk. It looked at her expectantly with intelligent eyes and cocked its head, then made like a retriever and pointed its paw toward the Forbidden Forest. 

"You want me to follow you, boy? Is something wrong?" The dog just wagged its tail impatiently and panted at her. She shrugged and followed it toward a clearing where a huge stag was drinking from a pool of water. The stag lifted its head at her approach and looked toward her.

"Oh, my…" Lily stood completely still, not wanting to startle the creature, but it slowly made its way toward her and bowed its head to her.

"Go ahead and touch him," said a voice behind her that sounded remarkably like Sirius Black. Lily leapt back, startled.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius cocked his head to one side and stared at her with the same expression that the black dog had earlier. "You're the dog!"

"Padfoot at your service. Remus told us you'd guessed our secret, so we figured you might like to see what we've accomplished." He shrugged eloquently. "We're showing off, really; none of us are at all impressed by the Animagus thing anymore since we've been doing it for years. But the look on your face—" A rat squeaked from its perch on his shoulder. "Oh, yes. Say hello to Wormtail."

"Peter?" Lily said, still astonished. The rat twitched its whiskers at her and squeaked some more. They'd really managed to do it. They were really Animagi, and they'd done it all to help Remus. Now this was a side of the Marauders she'd never seen before. The stag nudged her hand with his velvet-soft nose and she turned back, remembering.

"And this is Prongs," Sirius said, snorting softly. "I know, he just had to get the best animal, right? Lucky bastard."

"Hello, Prongs," she said carefully, placing a hand on the stag's neck. She ran her fingers down the stag's side, feeling rather weird about the whole thing. On one hand, this was toerag James Potter she was touching so gently, and he was clearly enjoying himself. On the other hand, this was a stag named Prongs. It was very confusing. "I think it's wonderful that you guys did all this for Remus," Lily said, attempting to gather her thoughts. "You're really good friends to him."

"Oh, it was nothing much," Sirius said, attempting modesty and failing miserably.

"Don't listen to him," a new voice, Peter's, said. "It took me a lot longer to learn than those two. It's really difficult magic." Lily heard a woof from behind her. She turned and laughed. Sirius had become Padfoot again, and he was doing dog tricks. He really _was_ showing off.

"It's a shame, you know," she said casually. "Prongs is a beautiful animal." Prongs raised himself to his full height and puffed out his chest, as much as it was possible for a deer to do so. "If only James Potter could be as noble," she added, and stifled a laugh as she watched Prongs deflate.

"That's something you'll never hear about _my _Animagus," Peter said sullenly, to break the tension. "No one ever talks about the noble rat. Or even the clever rat. No, people will be forever swatting at me with brooms and setting traps for me, while if Sirius here ever had need, he could pass himself off as a house pet easily." Padfoot demonstrated what he thought of this comment by lifting up his back leg and wetting Peter's shoe.

In his shaggy black dog form, Lily quickly discovered, she could even take Sirius to the girls' dormitory with her and absentmindedly stroke his silky hair as she studied. He almost made a better dog than a boy, she reflected as she threw a stick for Padfoot again and again and he returned to her, joyfully wagging his tail and licking her face.

"Hey, cut that out- ugh, dog slobber."

* * *

Lily and Sev were blissfully happy together, oblivious to the forces surrounding them that disapproved thoroughly of their association, plotting their downfall. Theirs was an innocent courtship, and not that much different, really, from when they were strictly best friends, except that now they didn't have to hide their feelings. Now, they could walk arm in arm with each other through Hogwarts and the teasing they received was justified. Now, they could steal private moments to kiss and hold each other close, and while they were still fuzzy on exactly what should follow the kissing, they were subtly making inquiries and doing research, each in their own ways. Lily preferred to read trashy romance novels and Witch Weekly for advice, and when she discovered necking— and hickeys, which were a strictly Muggle problem, it seemed— they spent an entire week perfecting their technique. Both were painfully shy when it came to physical intimacy, since they feared to seem too bold or weird or somehow wreck their friendship, which they understood was a common problem when couples broke up. Lily and Snape never dreamed they'd separate, of course. Neither had ever felt this way before; it was bloody brilliant in every way. It was impossible that these feelings would just disappear or transfer themselves onto someone else, they felt sure of it. 

Just as James Potter felt sure that he could push Snape past his breaking point, push him to a place of such humiliation that Lily would feel it absolutely necessary for her to intervene. When she leapt in to save him, Snape would be in such a dark place, he'd lash out, James felt sure. Lash out at Lily, who would be so hurt and offended, she'd never forgive him. And she'd run straight into James's arms for comfort and understanding, realizing that he was right about poor old Snivellus after all. It was not, James reflected, a very Gryffindor-ish thing to do. It was poor form after all, but all's fair in love and war, as the saying went, and he _must _have Lily Evans.

He'd known it was destiny ever since he'd seen that her Patronus was a doe. His was a stag. She was the one for him, he just knew it, as everyone had always said he would 'just know'. They were meant for each other, if only she'd see how wonderful he could be. He wasn't fumbling and awkward like Snivellus. He knew how to please a woman, how to make a woman happy. How to make Lily happy. She hadn't taken too well to his former wooing techniques, that was certain, and his friends had counseled him against those tactics. Remus, the one closest to Lily, had explained that his public displays of undying affection were embarrassing Lily and made him come across as a prankster, not serious about winning her. So he'd planned to demonstrate the softer side of James Potter at the Yule Ball. He'd had it all worked out in his head: how chivalrous he would be, presenting her with an ever-blooming rose, paying her compliments on how lovely she looked and how gracefully she danced, telling her he _had _noticed her smiles. He was going to ask for another chance at wooing her, and he'd be so polite and charming that she wouldn't be able to resist.

But then that damned Slytherin had gotten there first, and she'd said yes! James had no idea what Lily saw in the boy, stringy and pasty as he was. But it was no matter. Whatever slight attraction she might feel for Snape would surely pale when she saw what James was capable of, how much he truly admired her and could understand her as a fellow Gryffindor. First, though, he had to get rid of Snape, and reveal him for the Muggleborn-hater he secretly was.

"Oi, Prongs? Why are you steepling your fingers together and cackling like a mad person?"

"C'mere, Sirius, and I'll tell you all about it."

* * *


	7. Worst Memories in the Making

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 7: Worst Memories in the Making 

_you never get to choose, you live on what they sent you, you know they're gonna use the things you love against you…  
_

AN: Credit goes to JKR (of course) for "Snape's Worst Memory", and her lovely dialogue, around which I wove my own. Apologies for not clarifying this sooner- WKoH will stick to canon as long as possible, but will probably end up AU in some fashion (because dead!Lily and angsty!Sev is canon already, and it's rather difficult for them to get together under those circumstances).

* * *

"Absolutely not," Remus said, standing up abruptly and dislodging a protesting Sirius from his lap. "I'm shocked you can even consider it! Lily's happy with Snape. You should accept defeat and let her go." 

"Never," James said fervently, the mad gleam of the fanatic in his eyes. "Evans is my destiny. We're meant to be together."

"Really," Lupin started in skeptically, but James cut him off.

"This isn't just some schoolboy crush, Moony. This is love. And I'm going to fight for her. She's only with old Snivellus because she doesn't know how heavily he's into the Dark Arts." Remus shook his head sadly.

"I'm disappointed in you," he said. "All three of you."

"Aww, but Moony-"

"Don't even think about it, Sirius. You should know better." With that, he turned his back on them and walked away.

"Now look what you did!" Sirius shot a glare at James. "This girl better be worth all the groveling I'm going to have to do." He took off after Remus, metaphorical tail between his legs. "Moony, come back here, I wasn't going to-"

* * *

They'd trapped him, those damn Marauders, right on the heels of a verbal flogging from Avery and Mulciber again. He was getting threats, subtle but there, if he didn't conform to proper Slytherin standards of conduct— in other words, Death Eater conduct. Dark Magic. He hadn't been doing his quota. Then those blasted Marauders and the envious James Potter had set out to humiliate him again. 

"Chuffed you could make it, Snivellus!"

"Wotcher, Snivelly, ready for a duffing up?" As if any of that mattered now, since he'd won already. He had Lily. Potter didn't. But then suddenly he was upside down and helpless, and the feeling he hated worst of all was feeling out of control, and they were hurling taunts at him, not just them but everyone.

"What's the matter, Snape? Scared?"

"Need a girl to come to your rescue?"

"Why don't you fight back, Snivellus? Or are you a coward?"

"Snape's a coward!"

Of course Lily had to witness this, and so did all his Slytherin mates who hated her. If he let her rescue him like this, they'd hurt her. They'd take it as a personal insult to the House. _Oh, no, Merlin no_. He had to get her out of here! Whatever it took, he had to get her out of harm's way. _Can't you just leave well enough alone, Lily? _

"Go away," he shouted, hoping she'd get the message and leave before Avery and Mulciber spotted her amidst the commotion. Snape strained against his invisible bonds, knowing hopelessly that there was no other way. She'd only leave if he did something so horrible, so awful that she wouldn't deign him worthy of rescue, and he was pinned into a tight enough corner to do it. His heart sank. _Forgive me, _he thought, and took a breath.

* * *

_'I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!_' Lily blinked, and felt time expand and then stop altogether. So that's what he really thought of her? He'd just been, what, dating her to get into her pants? He'd been faking love to prove that he could get any Mudblood girl to date him? Was this some sick initiation test from his Deatheater friends? 

_Filthy little Mudblood_. That's what she was to him? After everything they'd shared, he could say something like that when he knew how much it hurt her? She must have seriously misjudged him.

"Fine," she said coolly, not allowing any emotion into her voice. "I won't bother in the future." Her lower lip trembled. She balled her hands into fists. "And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus_."

"Apologise to Evans," she heard James roar. That was even more infuriating. He didn't get it. He was just making it worse. Lily laughed bitterly as he tried to defend himself when she said he was just as bad as Snape. Sure, it was true; James had never called her a Mudblood. But he was still awful. She listed off all the things about him that had always pissed her off and concluded,

"I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK. And you can't even bother to call me by my first name!' It was trivial, but it was the last straw. She couldn't get out of there fast enough. Her heart felt like it was breaking. She couldn't look at Severus or James. It was all she could do not to break down sobbing right there and make a tremendous scene. Remus caught her eye briefly as she turned on her heel and sprinted away. He looked apologetic, almost guilty; another time she would have wondered what was up, but all she wanted now was a hole in the ground where she could curl up and cry.

* * *

Well, that hadn't gone as anticipated. At all. Not even remotely. True, he'd managed to humiliate Snivelly again in front of everyone, but Evans had said he was just as bad as Snape. Thought he was a conceited arrogant toerag, in fact, and that she wouldn't go out with him for the world. Even Sirius had agreed with her as much as he'd dared. Damn. Well, all wasn't lost. At least he got Snape to call her a Mudblood. _That'll be the end of their little romance_, James thought with satisfaction, rolling up his sleeves. _And probably the end of their friendship as well._

"Right," he said furiously, getting down to business, "right -" He'd vent his feelings on Snape. He cast another spell, and Snape tilted upside down again to the amusement of all onlookers.

"Shall we end the boxer/brief debate at last? Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"

* * *

Lily stood in the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, summoned by the portrait of the Fat Lady. She was wearing a purple silk pajama set and her eyes had dark circles under them. She didn't appear to have slept. 

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No," Lily said shortly. She looked like he felt: exhausted and agonized. She blew out a breath. "What do you want?"

"To apologize."

"Save your breath."

"I mean it."

"I don't want to hear it."

"You're going to hear it all the same. I'm sorry. I'm so completely and utterly sorry, Lily. I had no right or reason to say that to you, but if you could only understand…"

"I hear you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"

"But you ARE different! You're not like them. You're not like anyone I've ever met before." He tried a different tactic. "I'll sleep out here every night until you forgive me, you know I will." She closed her eyes, seeming very old and worn just then.

"I just don't know, Severus. I'm sorry. We don't seem to have much in common anymore." She averted her eyes, staring at her bare feet, not wanting to look at him. "And the worst part of all this is, I really did love you."

There was infinite sadness in her eyes as she stepped back through the portal and it closed behind her, and he could hear her sobbing through the door. He'd only meant to call her an insufferable know-it-all or accuse her of cheating on him, anything to get her to go, but instead those horrific words had come out of him and ruined his life. He'd wanted to tell her why, but how could he explain what she'd never believe? Snape slammed his fist against the stone wall behind him. He felt the skin on his knuckles tear. His hand would be a bloody mess, and he could heal it easily enough even without going to the infirmary, but the pain in his hand was drowning out the pain in other inaccessible places, so he left it be. Pain was just his weakness leaving him. Clearly he was very weak. He stared at his mangled hand, wondering when the blood would run yellow for his cowardice.

* * *

The next day, Potter and Black ganged up on him, hidden under that despicable, spineless invisibility cloak. Potter punched him in the face and broke his nose with a sickening crunch. 

"Do not EVER make Lily cry, understand, Snivellus? I don't know what brutal things you said to her, but she hates you. She never wants to see you again." No, it wasn't true, it couldn't be true. She never wanted to see him again? No. He refused to believe it. His eyes watered but he would not cry. His nose was going to heal crooked. Good. He would have a hooked nose and lanky, unwashed black hair to match his black eyes and a perpetual sneer. Then the ugliness outside would match the ugliness within. How could she have ever loved him in the first place? "Easy," she would have said, "I see what's in your heart." But not now. Now he was lucky to even be breathing the same air with her in class.

She'd have a perfect fairytale life with bleeding popular James Potter, and she'd never look back, not once. Not for him. James Potter rode the white horse Sirius had bought him with his family's money and had the shining armor he'd got Peter to polish and the dragon Remus had been training so he could vanquish it easily. That was how things were, how they always were meant to be. Snape had overstepped his boundaries; he was supposed to get left behind while the lovers rode off into the sickening sunset. He'd turn his horse around and ride into the embracing darkness; in time, bitterness and deliberate cruelty and evil deeds might erase any trace of goodness she'd left on his life.

And yet (he knew because he'd volunteered to stay behind and scrub out the cauldrons), when she made Amorentia for the Slug Club's annual Valentine's Day celebration, the cauldron still smelled like him and Hep and the potions he was constantly brewing. The same way it had smelled last year, and the year before. He knew he wasn't meant to be in her story that way, but he sneered at convention and rules. If just this once the world could forgive him stepping out of his allotted place as the tragic, self-sacrificing pathetic man pining for a long lost love… even if it couldn't. She didn't seem to want a proper hero. What she seemed to want was all-consuming love. What she seemed to want was happiness and joy. _She doesn't look happy now_, he thought, watching her from a distance as she made her way to the Gryffindor table at dinner.

* * *

He was right: she wasn't. 


	8. Camelot Crumbling

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 8: Camelot Crumbling

They were in their final year now, and Snape had already contacted Lucius Malfoy about joining the Deatheaters once he graduated. Lucius had said, why wait? He could envision the Dark Mark on his arm through his pajamas. He already regretted the decision, but what else could he do? He had skills Riddle needed, talents few possessed, and he could keep his mouth shut. And the real reason he was joining: he was in a position to know before anyone else if Lily or her family would ever be threatened by the anti-Mudblood campaign. Then he could get help. He could go to Dumbledore. He could make sure Voldemort would never harm her. He was crazy for thinking he could double-cross Voldemort, of course, but it was all to protect her. All for her.

* * *

James had stopped hexing the people who annoyed him just because he could. He gave the Snitch back and apologized to Filch. He even stopped messing up his hair in that stupid way. Lily guessed her critiques had really been taken to heart. But all she was thinking about was a pair of dark eyes in a long pale face, yelling words at her she'd never thought him capable of saying. She stared often into the silent two-way mirror, hugging Hep to her chest. Sometimes she almost asked it "just show me what he's doing, please," but she always lost her nerve. She didn't want to know if he was happier without her. It had been a cruel thing to say to anyone, much less his girlfriend, and she didn't want to see the person he was becoming. 

Her dreams were of flying, two on a broomstick, arms wrapped around Severus as they sped through the air laughing gleefully. They always ended with her slipping off and reaching for his hand. He'd let go and she'd plummet toward the earth, waking up instants before she ended her fatal fall.

* * *

Lily and Severus still took NEWT-level Potions together, and their conversation was limited to "pass the mandrake root" and "mind the puddle". Even such innocuous attempts at engaging Lily as 

"Odd weather we're having, isn't it, what with the purple snow and the pears?" garnered only a distracted,

"Oh, is it? I hadn't noticed." They were ever so careful not to touch, or at least, she was, and he respected that for the most part. Once in a blue moon they'd brush shoulders as they reached across the table for ingredients and both of them would momentarily freeze with a kind of pain flaring across their faces before they recovered. Snape would hold his breath until they were no longer in contact, then turn away hastily and busy himself with aggressively chopping up ingredients. Once, he sliced his finger open and Lily noticed it before he did. She calmly announced he was bleeding, and then looked around for something to cauterize the wound with. The particular potion they were working with at that time was volatile, and healing spells might have had adverse affects. Finding nothing at hand, she sighed, took a green ribbon out of her tied-back hair and tied a knot around his finger.

"Can't believe wizards haven't heard of first-aid kits. Or Band-aids," she muttered under her breath.

"Thanks," he started to say, but she cut him off brusquely with a "don't mention it" and went back to work. Severus saved the slightly bloodstained ribbon long after his finger had scabbed over, savoring the faint scent of her shampoo. He kept it tucked inside his robes, close to his heart.

* * *

Remus was kind as always, and even Sirius helped try to draw her out of her depression. He'd turn into Padfoot and lay his head on her lap while she and Remus took turns reading _Hamlet _out loud to each other in funny voices. 

She stumbled on Polonius' line to the king: "Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star;  
This must not be." Remus had to take up reading after that, for she refused to go on, but snapped,

"And why the hell not, if they loved each other? What is it with social status anyway? Why are they all so damn shallow?" She stared morosely out the window until long after Polonius exited. She rallied again to play Ophelia to Lupin's Hamlet, and when he (treading carefully indeed) said, "I did love you once," she had heartfelt feeling and accusation in her voice when she replied,

"Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so."

"You should not have believed me," Remus continued, watching some color and fire return to her face in the wake of this pronouncement, "I loved you not."

"I was the more deceived!" Lily felt the utmost sympathy for poor confused Ophelia. All she wanted was Hamlet, and then he went mad on her and said the most hateful, spiteful things for no reason she could discern! No wonder she went mad herself and drowned herself in a lake. When Lily's 'O, what a noble mind' monologue was over, she slumped back in her chair, exhausted, to the sounds of clapping. James stood in the doorway, smiling softly.

"That was brilliant. I had no idea you could act, Ev-" he hesitated, then amended, "Lily."

"Who said I was acting?" She looked askance at his gentle demeanor. Normally his smile would be cocky or mocking, but today and right now it was full of understanding.

"Is this seat taken?" He motioned to the empty space beside her on the couch. She thought about it for a moment.

"No, it's all yours."

"Thanks," he said, and sat. Their knees brushed together as she stared into the darkness and he stared at her, and when he put an arm around her shoulder, she didn't move away. She was long past caring what James Potter did or didn't do with his hands.

* * *

"Lily," Remus motioned her over quietly, his voice barely a whisper in the library's sanctified quiet. For once, he wasn't with Sirius, Peter and James. They were alone. "You should know- about that day by the lake… How do I put this? James is one of my best mates, and I don't want you thinking any ill of him, especially not when he's finally got you, and Merlin knows that's been his dream for six years now." Remus looked at her steadily as he whispered, "He'll go to any lengths to keep you, just like he did to get you. Do you understand?" 

"Not really." He tried again.

"When did you fall out with Snape?"

"After he called me a Mudblood, don't be ridiculous."

"Yes," he said patiently, "but when did he do that?"

"That day by the lake when James- oh." Her eyes widened in horror. "You're not saying James set us up?" Remus chewed on his thumbnail, a sure sign he was nervous.

"I'm just saying that sometimes you have to hurt the people you love in order to prevent them from getting hurt worse by someone else."

"That's not an excuse," she said angrily. "If there was something else going on, he should have trusted me with the truth. Some friend he turned out to be."

That was the week she accepted Potter's invitation to go to Paris with him on hols. Hurt and betrayed by her best friend, vulnerable and wanting someone who valued her for who she was, who didn't care who her parents were, she accepted. Rather listlessly, she went on dates with him, distractedly she returned his smiles and accepted his friends. Remus looked at her pityingly, like he understood. She'd always liked him the best of James's gang. Moony knew how to keep secrets.

Sirius was a prat and an incredible ponce, but he was funny and good-looking and a friendly drunk at the pub where Lily had become a regular. His renditions of Queen were particularly amusing, and his interpretive disco was just as ridiculous as the outfits he wore while doing it. Remus just let her be, in peace, without saying much, and she appreciated that.

When James kissed her so voraciously, it made her forget why she was hurting, and at whom. So she let him. She just wanted to feel something that didn't hurt, and his scorching kisses burned, but not in a bad way. He told her he loved her and that she was beautiful, and she listened to the words and tried to pretend that the voice saying them was someone else's and that he knew how many smiles she had. That he cared enough to find out. When he asked her if she wanted to come inside with him, she felt nothing but numb when she agreed. "I feel so cold," she'd said, and he'd offered to warm her up. She hoped he could. This boy who claimed to love her- perhaps she could be content with him, even happy. She could like him, never love him, but that would have to be enough. Enough for both of them. Yet the night she let him worship her body as he'd wished to do for years— the night that he held her close to him afterward as he fell asleep and she lay awake with tears in her eyes, holding a stuffed tiger from her childhood that smelled like a different boy than the one she was laying next to— she yearned for so much more than liking.

* * *

Avery and Mulciber noticed Severus's sudden devotion to the Dark Arts following the Marauder incident and the subsequent mysterious death of Snape's father, and as a reward they gave him a pure-blood girl Avery had been shagging. "To test your loyalty," Avery had said, "think of our friend here as you would think of me." To make it more enjoyable for Snape, knowing what he'd felt for Lily Evans, the girl even drank a Polyjuice potion the two had brewed from a stray hair of hers. Avery and Mulciber didn't understand how it was torture to see her face again, smiling up at him and saying she'd do whatever he pleased, knowing it wasn't really her. He tried to kiss her and pretend the lips were Lily's, tangling his fingers in her long red hair, pressing her against him at last. But he couldn't go through with it. The girl's kissing style was all wrong; the way she clung greedily to him, none of it was the same. Lily was just another of last summer's dreams, slipping through his fingers like her silken hair used to, back when he could call her his own. This girl in his arms now was only a nightmare and a poor consolation at that. He'd had to push her away; he paid her good money not to tell anyone he hadn't violated her.

* * *

Lily knew it had been a mistake born out of weakness and loneliness to have slept with James, especially so soon before her graduation from Hogwarts. That wasn't how she'd wanted to lose her virginity. She invented reasons why she wouldn't repeat the experience, though she couldn't hold him off forever: she was too tired, she had too much work to do. So the occasions were rare, though they seemed to make James happy. She even told him she was indisposed in a feminine way one week, even though she'd missed her period that month. She didn't think anything of it, too preoccupied with other worries, until it happened again the second time, and by then it was too late. She bought a Muggle pregnancy test from the drugstore and was unsurprised when it turned up pink. The universe was punishing her for acquiescing to James. Now they were going to have a child together, and he didn't even know. They were going to be stuck together. Great. He'd resent her for taking away his freedom, and he'd want her to abort it, but she knew she wouldn't. That would require a reason to want to disentangle herself from James Potter, and since she had no other options, she supposed he'd be a decent father: kind, if a bit clueless. 

He surprised her by being thrilled about the baby after he'd got over the initial shock of the announcement. All the color had drained from his face and he'd sat down abruptly, murmuring "a father? Me? I'm going to be a father?" Lily had worried he was angry with her, though as she was about to remind him, it took two to make a child so it was hardly her fault alone. He wasn't angry; he leapt up and threw his arms around her and rained kisses on her face, saying it was amazing news. She begged him to keep quiet about it, at least until she started to show. She didn't want to be one of those tacky unwed mothers. He assured her she wouldn't have to be; he'd step up and do the right thing, of course. "I'll love being married to you," James had said, "and I'll love being a father. I'd expected we'd wait a few years first, but this is fine too. I didn't want to rush you… Oh, Lil, you don't know how happy this makes me. We should think of baby names! How does Chudley sound?"

"We are not naming the baby after a Quidditch team, James."

"What about Godric?"

"Absolutely not."

"Harold? We could call him Harry."

"Maybe, but what if it's a girl?"

"Rose. Another flower in the family."

"Don't I get a say?"

"Oh. Right. Well, how do you feel about Rose?"

He was endearing, Lily thought, he really was. It was such a shame she didn't love him. Still, people had gotten married with far less to go by than endearing enthusiasm. She couldn't complain. She just wished… well, there was no point in wishing for things that would never come true, now. At least she'd loved at all; at least she knew she could. So it ended badly. So what? _Suck it up, Lily Evans, you're a big girl now. You have people depending on you. Including a baby. You don't get to make selfish choices. _No, let it never be said that Lily was selfish. She could ignore the screaming of her heart that said marrying James was all wrong. She could even ignore the dreams she still had of Severus. What she couldn't ignore was the fact that she and James were going to have this baby, and in the wizarding world it was still frowned upon to be an unwed mother. She would be brave. She would not cry. Well, not where anyone could see her, anyway, and that's what counted. She took a deep breath and prepared to face the rest of her life.

"Rose would be lovely," she said sweetly, and kissed her fiancé on the lips. All things considered, it was a good kiss. Not spine-tingling and soul-shattering, perhaps, but good. Gentle. Sweet. A good omen. They were going to be okay. Somehow, Lily couldn't quite bring herself to believe it.

* * *

Snape tried and tried to eradicate Lily Evans from his system, yet failed spectacularly to do so. Even after he had the more physical pain of the Dark Mark flaring on his arm to distract him, the ache of losing her never went away. He tried to burn his love out, to scrub it out, to curse it out of himself however he could. Yet he found himself wandering the halls of Hogwarts castle late at night, not sure what he should be searching for. One night he found the Mirror of Erised completely by accident, and knew it for what it was, yet stayed anyway. Lily looked as beautiful as an angel, and the Severus in the mirror was the happiest he'd ever been as his bride flung her arms around him and kissed him soundly on the mouth. He wore a lily in the lapel of his coat, and Snape sat mesmerized as they took their vows in front of family and friends who released doves and gold sparkles into the air. Erised-Severus whispered something into Lily's ear and she laughed and looked sly, and then they slipped off by themselves when no one was looking. He watched for hours as visions of his wedding day flashed in front of him, a wedding day he would probably never see now, and a single tear ran down his cheek for the life he could have known.

* * *

AN: Well, that was another chapter of angst, but there _are _reconciliations ahead. Really. 


	9. Wedding Bell Blues

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 9: Wedding Bell Blues

_Authorial note: Wow. 100 reviews. I am deeply flattered. I feel this calls for a celebratory butterbeer. Lily and Severus feel it calls for a celebratory snog. Well, whatever makes you happy, kids. ;-)_

* * *

It was a lazy summer afternoon, and the Marauders plus Lily and Peter's new girlfriend were having a picnic in celebration of having survived the Hogwarts experience. 

"So, what are you going to do now, boys?" Peter's girlfriend (a sweet, busty blonde witch named Victoria) had asked, and she was met by various shouts of:  
"Save the world!"

"Become a professional Quidditch player!"

"Work at Zonko's!"  
"Knit socks for a living!"

"Become a researcher, or an editor for magical textbooks, probably."

"Join the Order of the Phoenix."

"What?"

"Well, there's a war on, you know, and I think Dumbledore's right. I think we can help."

"How very noble of you."

"Well, yeah, I like to think so."

"Just don't get blown to smithereens, alright, Pads?"

"No worries, James, if I do, you're coming with me. I've signed us both up."

"Have you! I'd been meaning to, myself, going to all the meetings and such…"

"Boys, I'm not sure we should be talking about this in a public place," Remus added in his quiet way, and everyone sobered and looked around guiltily.

"So," Peter said, to break the silence, "where'd you hide the Map, James?"

"IN A PLACE WHERE ONLY THE WORTHY WILL FIND IT," James intoned solemnly. The others exchanged knowing looks.

"You put it behind that rather lewd portrait of the busty witch we found in second year that swings open to reveal that secret passageway to the kitchens if you compliment her on her dress and ask her nicely, didn't you?"

"I MIGHT HAVE."

"Thought so."

"LIKE I SAID, ONLY THE WORTHY WILL FIND IT."

"Right. Anyone up for a game of catch?"

"I AM."

"Oi, Prongs?"

"YES, PETER?"

"Knock it off, will you? You sound like a right idiot."

"SORRY. Er, I mean, sorry, Pete." The two women in the group (and the non-athletic boy) watched them go and shook their heads, all minds with the same thought:

* * *

"Are you happy, Lil?" 

"What?" Lily looked startled, then guilty, then defensive. "Of course I am, Remus, why do you ask?"

"You don't have to lie to me, Lily. You've kept my secret, and I've been keeping yours." She looked questioningly at him. He lowered his voice so that Victoria, who was cheering on Peter despite him getting his rump kicked, wouldn't hear them. "I haven't mentioned to James that you're still in love with Snape," he elaborated.

"I am not," she began, but knew it was useless. Remus saw right through her. She sighed.

"Okay, you win. If you'll continue keeping my secrets, here's one more. There's going to be a child." Remus's eyes widened in understanding. "James and I… the understanding is that we'll get married quickly, before I start to show too much. A big wedding, with tons of friends and family, very romantic and spontaneous. So you see why it's useless to love Sev now." Remus was silent for a long moment, thinking about the problem and turning it this way and that in his quick mind.

"Love is never useless," he said eventually, "even if it's not appropriate or right." He smiled wanly at her. "I should know that above all people." Lily nodded, acknowledging the truth in this. His eyes grew distant and dreamy, thinking about Sirius. "It's one of the greatest gifts we are given in this life." Lily couldn't help herself. She emitted a quiet "Awww…"

"Er, sorry. That was incredibly schmoopy and naff, wasn't it?" He blushed and looked away, off to the park where James and Sirius were batting a Quaffle back and forth in a game of monkey-in-the-middle. Guess who was the monkey. Sirius looked up and waved at Remus, grinning, and the Quaffle smacked him in the side of the head. He went down like a sack of wet sheets, goofy grin still on his face. Lily and Remus watched as Sirius turned back to his mate and pounced on him, giving him a ferocious noogie for his pains. Peter took this opportunity to turn his back on manliness and run into Victoria's arms. They saw James's flailing limbs and heard his yelps of protest:

"Bugger! You sodding berk, let go of me- OW!" Lupin sighed, shaking his head, and turned back to Lily.

"He's _your _fiancé."

"Being attacked by _your _boyfriend." Remus held his hands open and shrugged. "What was I saying?"

"Love is really groovy?" Lily hazarded.

"Oh. Right. I think before you can start a life with James, you need to make your peace with Severus. Or you'll let one word ruin you both." Lily looked pensive as the two boys came bounding back to their respective partners, still shoving each other and butting heads.

"That was _so_ not on, mate."

"You hit me! With a Quaffle! In the head!" James turned to Lily, about to open his mouth, and she pressed two fingers gently against his lips.

"I know what you're thinking, James, and no. Quaffle is a terrible name for a child." Sirius looked momentarily confused. Remus distracted him by throwing a stick and shouting,

"Fetch, boy!" Sirius' dog instincts came to life and he brought back the stick before he could shout, "Unfair!" He chucked the stick at Remus, who merely chuckled and offered him a piece of chocolate.

"Is it time yet?" James whispered to Lily. Lily nodded.

"I imagine it is."

"At last!" He gave her a smacking kiss on the mouth, then bounded to his feet, seized her by the hand and pulled her up beside him.

"Friends, nobles, countrymen, lend me your ears! But not really, because that'd be gross and then I'd have to put them back on you. Anyway. I have an announcement to make! The lovely Lily Evans has agreed, Merlin only knows why, to marry me this very summer! For life is short and love conquers all and if we do it now we know all of you will come and eat us out of house and home. Which we don't have. Yet. But there will be cake!" He looked anxiously at her. "How did I do? Did that come out alright?" She squeezed his waist fondly.

"That was just fine."

"Well, lads, say something. Don't just leave a man hanging here. Say you'll come." The stunned Marauders mobilized themselves.

"Oh, yes, of course we'll come! I'll be the best man, you prat." Sirius punched James lovingly in the gut. "I _am _the best man, right?"

"Wouldn't have anyone else," James said, grinning.

"We're trying to convince Remus to be my maid of honor, since my sister Petunia won't come," Lily confided to Victoria. "He's being difficult."

"Not true," he protested, "I just don't think I'd look very good in lilac chiffon."

"I do," Sirius said. "I think he looks good in anything." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Lily rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him.

"I love you all very much."

"Even me?" James piped up.

"Especially you," she replied. It wasn't a lie. She _had_ grown to love him, in the way one loved one's close friends. She loved him like she loved Remus. It was all a question of semantics. He hadn't said 'are you madly _in love_ with me'. He'd said 'do you love me'. She could say yes with a clear conscience.

"But if you'll excuse me," Lily murmured to her friends, making her getaway, "I've just remembered I have a letter to write." Remus winked at her as she brushed the grass of her skirt and stood up, and Sirius pointed at him.

"You winked!"

"I did no such thing. I had something in my eye."

"Fine." He paused, sulking. Remus scratched his head. "Ooh, ooh, right there, right behind the ears. That's nice."

"I think I'll go help Lily write her letter," James said, also standing up.

"If that's anything like the 'help' Sirius gives me when I'm trying to study, you'd better not. I'm still cleaning slobber out of my ears."

"Too much information, Moony, but I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

She sent the owl on its way with a bit of parchment, only three words hastily written on it before James came loping in, hoping it would ease the tightness in her chest and the loneliness she felt even when she was with friends. _I miss you_, it said, and it winged its way to the house at Spinner's End where a dark-eyed young man was lying curled into himself on his bed, staring at the walls. He opened it apathetically; he was sure it was some summons from Lucius or Mulciber for a Deatheater meeting. He read it, and then read it again, then a third time. He took a breath for what felt like the first time in months. Something unlocked itself inside him, and the hateful dark thing that had been clawing its way into his heart scrabbled and slipped, seeking a foothold that was no longer there. He added the word _too _onto the end of it and told the owl to find Lily Evans. He hoped it was real. Then he realized he had hope again. That must be a good sign. The next time it returned it had only one word and a number on it, a secret location known only to the two of them and the time he was to meet her there. He sent it back once more with trembling fingers:

* * *

It wasn't until she was with him again that she realized how monochrome her life had been without him. It was as if a haze of depression and a fog of apathy had lifted off her, allowing her to breathe at last. If she was being honest with herself, she just felt more alive when she was near him. He brought out the best and worst in her, and she lived for those extremes of feeling. She was making leaves swirl around her and butterflies land in her hair, just like she had in this exact forest spot the day he'd told her magic was real. 

"I missed you, you stubborn arse," she said by way of greeting, hugging her knees and decidedly not looking at him.

"Thank you."

"For? Calling you a stubborn arse?"

"For giving me a second chance," he said, sitting down.

"That's still up for debate. I heard you turned Deatheater." He shook his head.

"It's not like that." Lily was generally a trusting person. She wouldn't check his arm to make sure, and he was grateful for that even as he worried about it.

"What's it like, then?" It was a real question, not hostile. She really wanted to believe in him again, trust him again. She was asking for him to give her a reason.

"I'm going to keep you safe." She looked at him then, and then her eyes widened.

"What happened to your nose? It's all…" she made vague distressing hand motions. "Crooked," she finished lamely.

"Gift from your new boyfriend," he said, shrugging it off. She clapped a hand to her mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Sev, I had no idea he did that! I'll knee him in the nuts!"

"Don't bother." She looked hurt again. "I'm sorry, Lily," he found himself saying. Why was it that she was the only person in his life who mattered, and she was the only one he ever needed to apologize to? "I didn't mean it that way. It's fine. Really."

"Okay," she said, sounding skeptical but polite enough not to press further.

"Can you ever forgive me?"

"Yeah, I guess," she said heavily, running a hand through her hair. "Just stop doing stupid stuff, okay?"

"Sure. But the same goes for you too," he said, bolder than he should be, certain he was angering her but unable to stop all the same.

"What have I done lately that's so stupid?" _Besides getting pregnant with Potter's child. _

"Oh, I don't know. How about going out with Potter just to spite me?"

"I didn't do it just to spite you," she said, so softly he could barely hear her. "I was spiting myself too. I didn't want to be the girl I was with you anymore. I didn't want to be myself if being me meant loving that hard and hurting that much. I wanted to be what he thought I was: golden and untouchable and incapable of succumbing to lower emotions like jealousy and loneliness." She looked up at him then, challenging. "Going to lecture me, Sev? Tell me I was wrong to seek comfort where comfort was freely given? You wouldn't dare."

"I wasn't going to lecture you, Lil. I made a right mess of things. I just wish it could be simple again. I wish we could start over."

"Yeah? From which point?" He gave a short bark of laughter.

"The point where you still loved me, weren't dating Potter, and I hadn't royally fucked up would be nice."

"No, you know what? This isn't even about James. This is about you and your decision to involve yourself in the Dark Arts, in something I detest and loathe so damn much. It's corrupting you. It's making you a different person. Can't you see that?"

He wondered if telling someone he did something before he did it, but fully intended to, still counted as the truth.

"Lily, it's really not what it looks like. I'm not a – I'm not what you think I am."

"Then why are you a member of a secret organization that kills Muggleborns and causes havoc and terror wherever they go?"

"Remember that Muggle movie you tried to get me to watch, the one with James Blonde in it?"

"James Bond," Lily corrected automatically. "World's greatest spy. You didn't understand it. What of it?"

He shrugged. "I think I like it better now, that's all." Her brow furrowed, and then she gasped.

"Oh!" She didn't say anything else, but she scooted a little closer to him. He edged closer to her in turn and placed his hand on top of hers. When she didn't pull away, he took it as a good sign.

"Let's not ever do this again," she said. "I'm a wreck without you." She leaned closer and put her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, more tentative than ever, just grateful that she wasn't breaking contact.

"Me too," he said.

"Don't ever leave me like that, Sev." He started to protest that he wasn't the one who'd left, but it didn't really matter who was at fault.

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Pinky swear?" It was a childish Muggle gesture she'd picked up and refused to stop, claiming that there was never a more solemn or unbreakable oath than a pinky swear, and that the consequences of breaking such an oath were grave indeed. She linked pinkies with him. Snape sighed and gritted out the words, though he could not help lacing them with sarcasm.

"I pinky swear." Lily instantly relaxed, relief flooding her features. Evidently that was good enough for her.

"I should go," she said reluctantly, "James is waiting…"

"Will I see you again?" He tried to make the question casual, tried to make it sound like he didn't care even though it was the most important thing in the world.

"Definitely," she said. "I still have so much to tell you. Same time next week?"

_What about same time tomorrow, _he wanted to say, but he bit back the pathetic response.

"Sure. You can write me, you know. I assume you still remember how?" She smiled at him.

"I really, _really _missed you, Sev. I'm so glad we're friends again." He nodded so hard he felt like one of those fat-headed wobbly dolls she'd showed him on the inside of her Muggle vehicle after she'd got her license to drive.

"Yes," he said thickly. "Yes."


	10. Pieces of a Correspondence

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 9 and ½: Pieces of A Correspondence

_To: _

_Miss Evans__, Lily, __she-of-the-bright-red-hair_

_If I may __be so bold as to__ differ from your most considered opinion that we should, and I quote, 'put the past behind us', I should like to present my own case for doing so. It is my belief that you comprise a large part of my past, as, I presume, I do of yours. It would be folly to disregard the foundations upon which our friendship was built and from which we have both profited so much. __Forgive me, but__ I am not, as yet, ready to forget that which brings me much pleasure to remember. I recognize that your sentiment was well-intended, and I am sure you were referring to less pleasant memories than the ones of which I speak. However, you will understand if I do not acquiesce to 'put the past behind me', as it has brought me where I am today: speaking to you, and most likely bothering you immensely with all my rhetoric. _

_Humbly (I hear you laughing, and it is not polite) yours,_

_Severus Snape, Esq._

* * *

_To:_

_Mr. Snape__, Sev, __he of the enormous brain_

_You're much smarter than me, and I bow to your superior rhetoric. I suspect you do it just to torment me, but I will not be bothered. Ha. So there. You're right, of course; there are many memories of you I'd hate to "put behind me", and rightly so. I still have my 'Sev when he's done something wonderful' smile (do you remember that? I do. I thought you were immensely brave to tell me so), but I think you've added another one. I call it my 'Sev when he's being annoying but right' smile. It's accompanied by an exasperated sigh and a small laugh. Just so you can keep track._

_Yours (sorry about the laughing, I can't help it) arrogantly,_

_Lily Evans, instigator of ridiculous letters _

* * *

_To: _

_Lily Evans, instigator of ridiculous letters,_

_I am honored that two of your __six__ smiles (as you see, I am keeping track) are allotted to me. I feel the new smile is very appropriate, and I'm sure it suits you just fine. I do, in fact, recall the occasion of which you speak parenthetically; it is one among many reasons for wishing to keep all my memories of you just as they are, without editing. I am indeed curious as to why you would bring up that particular example, seeing as at the time I had two left feet and certainly trod on your toes half the time we were dancing. If you wish to embarrass me, it will not work. My acerbic wit is the shield behind which I stand, and all your baiting will do you no good._

_Cordially, _

_Severus Snape, vanquisher of Muggle death traps (do you recall that as well?)_

* * *

_To:_

_Sev, _

_You trod on my toes? Did you really? I don't recall that part. As far as I was aware, you danced perfectly. If the Muggle death trap you're referring to was our (tiny! wooden! not all that intimidating) roller coaster, of course I still remember. I saved that picture. I've considered framing it, but I'd hate to be too cruel. And I wasn't trying to embarrass you by bringing that dance up. It just came to mind when I thought of you. That's all._

_Cordials? Ooh, sounds interesting. I shall be bubble-ly yours,_

_Lily_

* * *

_ To:_

_Miss Lily Evans, she of the imperfect memory,_

_That contraption was at least a hundred meters high, and I swear to Merlin it was painted like a dragon and it roared at me when you made me get on. It was trying to kill me. The only good thing about that day was when you showed me that strange alternative medicine for neck kinks. Anyway, I'm flattered that the holes in your memory paint a far better picture of me than the truth of the matter. _

_Amused,_

_Severus_

* * *

_Sev:_

_You mean massages? I've gotten much better at them. _

_Mischievously, _

_Lily_

* * *

_Prove it._

_Sev_

* * *

_ Maybe I will._

_Lily_

* * *

_This sounds somewhat like a seduction. Am scandalized you are attempting such._

_S._

* * *

_V. Sorry to have scandalized you. Will stop._

_L._

* * *

_No need. Have sufficiently recovered. Was highlight of day. Do continue._

_S._

* * *

_Well, in __that__ case…_

_L._

* * *

_Was previously unaware ellipses could be construed in a lewd way. I applaud your talent._

_S._

* * *

_I am the Queen of subversive punctuation. You may kneel and kiss my ring._

_L._

* * *

_Your ring? I think not. What else may I kiss?_

_S._

* * *

_You are a wicked, wicked man._

_L._

* * *

_I like to think so._

_S._

* * *

_To: Remus Lupin, URGENT_

_Oh, bugger. Have turned corresponding with intellectual equal into flirting with intellectual equal. Help!_

_Lily_

_PS- have enclosed transcript of correspondence for further perusal._

* * *

_To: Lily Evans, re: URGENT_

_Oh, dear. I'm afraid you're on your own with this one. Perhaps telling him the truth would help?_

_Pointedly,_

_Remus Lupin_

* * *

_To: Moony_

_You're no fun._

_Lily_


	11. Eye of the Storm

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter Ten: The Eye of the Storm

Lily put all her spare time into planning details of the wedding, trying to figure out what dress to wear and what color scheme to implement. James was no help. He thought she looked good in every dress she tried on, and he wouldn't give an honest opinion about the silverware —on which point Lily had put her foot down for Remus's sake and insisted it not be actual silver— so she thought of Sev instead, and went with the choices she felt he would have made. Would have helped her make. Side by side. She figured she could make everything perfect except the groom, so she closed her eyes and envisioned her dream wedding. She imagined Sev would get incredibly grumpy and pretend it didn't make a bit of difference, but then he'd secretly pick out something very simple yet elegant for her to wear. He would put a flower in her hair and let it flow loose and long. Severus himself would tie his hair back and wear perfectly tailored black dress robes with just a hint of colour at the cuffs and lining, perhaps. They would drink from each other's cups out of crystal fluted goblets, and the decorations would be deep red and silver or soft green and gold, a mixing of their two Houses. She imagined it would be an outdoor wedding, something in dappled sunlight and shade. There would be music, strings and harps, and at the proper time doves and showers of golden mist would be released. It was completely wrong of her to be fantasizing about a wedding to someone other than the man she'd already agreed to marry. Of course it was. She knew it was, but it was also aiding her in the dozens of choices she had to make every day, so ultimately it was helping, wasn't it?

"Lily, love, you look stressed," James noted, popping in to check on her progress through the guest list. "Is anything wrong_?"_

"Yes, I'd say there's something wrong! You're supposed to be my groom, but you're leaving all the details of planning this wedding and telling your parents to me while you go off gallivanting with your buddies to play soldier-boy for Dumbledore, leaving me home to worry about whether or not I'll even HAVE a father for my child when and if you get back every time you leave the house!"

"Er, I am sorry about that, but we've discussed this and you know it's important to me, and even you said if you weren't pregnant that you'd be more actively involved than just healing…"

"Oh, and not to mention the fact that you broke the face of my best friend while you were supposedly defending my honor and never _told_ me about it!"

"What? Moony and I have never got into a fight. What are you-"

"Not Remus, you dolt! You know who I mean, and I'd call that wrong. Very wrong! Ye gods, James, when will you grow up?"

"I have grown up," he protested. "I barely ever set off dungbombs anymore, and I can drink a whole bottle of firewhiskey without puking, and… I'm marrying you, aren't I?"

"Oh, that's just lovely, James," she snapped. "Remind me again that the only reason we're doing this is because of the baby."

"That's not quite what I meant, but you have to admit a lesser man would-"

"Just forget it." She stormed off, leaving James bewildered as to what had brought on this fit of temper. When he'd asked Sirius about it later, Sirius just slung an arm around James's shoulder and said "probably just female hormones, mate. Nothing to worry about."

"Right," James had said. "D'you think I should be helping more with the planning bits?"

"Nah. Women like doing that sort of thing." James was about to question how Sirius knew so much about the behavior of women. But Sirius was his best mate and wouldn't lead him astray. They went off to the pub for a butterbeer and some manly activities, such as doing jello shots off each other's chests and stumbling home drunk.

* * *

Elsewhere: 

"How's the blushing bride doing? The maid of honor wants to know."

"Remus? Oh, Merlin's baggy y-fronts, take those off. You look ridiculous. I wasn't serious when I said you'd be wearing lilac chiffon, you know."

"Not even in a sweater vest?"

"No."

"Oh, thank heaven. It's really not my color."

"No. I'm afraid not. What about something in a celestial pattern? Silver on black, stars and comets, that sort of thing? It'd look lovely if you insist on a vest."

"That might be rather aesthetically pleasing, actually. But I wasn't just asking about how you're getting along with the wedding plans, you know." He smiled gently at her. "How's your mental state?"

"Well, utter chaos, really, after all the inadvertent flirting I've been doing with Sev lately. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him until I saw him and talked to him again."  
Lily looked guilty, then admitted, "I still haven't had the courage or the time to tell him James and I were getting married. Or why we're getting married so suddenly. And I'm afraid that if I do, he'll hate me again and we'll never manage to patch things up. I know there can't be… anything more than friendship between us, for obvious reasons, but I'd die if I knew he never wanted to see me again. What am I going to do?"

"Stop hinting that you're trying to seduce him? I'd say that would be a good start. I know you're not trying to mislead him, but it's going to be that much crueler when you have to tell him the truth. And the sooner the better, really. If he's truly a friend, he'll understand. And, well, you know I'm here for you, should you need me." Lily sighed expansively, knowing he was probably right, but really not wanting to tell Sev all the same. She just knew it was going to kill him, and it was going to kill her to tell him, especially now that they'd been flirting again. She felt excited every time they talked, and it wasn't just because they hadn't been talking for so long. She didn't even feel that excited about her own impending matrimony. Something was seriously wrong with this wedding; she suspected it had something to do with the groom.

* * *

"All hail the Queen of subversive punctuation," Sev greeted her, eyes glinting wickedly, and she momentarily forgot all about everything she had to tell him. He had that effect on her: she became young and sexy and light in his presence. She felt eighteen and free, instead of eighteen-going-on-thirty planning a wedding and having a baby. "I'm in the process of finding my own flat, so do excuse the mess." Well, that explained the boxes currently littering his childhood home. Why had she agreed to meet him here again? Oh, yes. Because the spectacle they'd surely create later wouldn't be appropriate for public consumption. Severus knelt before her and lifted her hand to his lips, his eyes watching her reaction all the while. 

"My liege," he said softly. He brushed his lips across her fingertips, then feather-light across each of her knuckles. Lily knew she should be stopping him, but she'd lost all capacity for speech and her knees felt like jelly. He kissed the flesh between her index and middle fingers equally leisurely, watching her from heavy-lidded eyes as his tongue slowly flicked out and stroked, just once. He exhaled in a long warm breath when he saw her biting her lower lip and heard her breath hitch. He turned her hand over and placed a lingering kiss on her wrist, then released her hand. She was a quivering, wobbly mess, and he'd barely touched her. This didn't happen when James kissed her. _What's happening to me? _

"There," he said, satisfied and smirking slightly, "that was much more fun than kissing your ring, wasn't it?"

"Gyuh."

"I'll take that as a yes. Now," he took her by the hands and led her to a couch, "what was the 'so much' you still had to tell me last time we met?" He was still rubbing his thumbs in circles over the backs of her hands and she'd forgotten why she was there.

"Hwwur?"

"Don't remember?" It was a full-blown smirk this time. "Can I… _help_ you remember?" He raised an insinuating eyebrow.

"Gyuh-huh."

"If you insist. Why don't you show me how much you've improved at 'massages' while you think about it?"

"Sh- sh-" He cocked his head at her.

"Hmm?"

"Shirt. You should take off your-" She pulled at the fabric on his back. "Shirt."

"Getting me naked already, are we?" Lily blushed and stammered,

"N- n- noooo…" What was the problem here? Normally _Sev _was the awkward one and she was the one casual and cool, making _him _uncomfortable!

"I was only teasing," he admitted, shucking his shirt. She sat behind him and began to knead his shoulders after rubbing her hands together to warm them up; trying valiantly to ignore how his body had changed and firmed in the year they'd been apart. She was kneading shoulder and upper arm muscles that hadn't been this developed the last time she'd been close enough to touch him. He would never be bulky by any means, but his stringyness had somehow changed into equally lean muscle.

"What have you been doing for the last year, lifting steel cauldrons for a living?" Had she really just said that out loud? Merlin, talk about awkward.

"You're not far off," he said, and there was a smile in his voice. Smile number two, she thought. "An apprenticeship at Bourgin and Burkes does involve a lot of heavy lifting. Why? Did my shocking new muscles catch you by surprise?"

"Who _are _you, and what have you done with Severus Snape? You're not, say, Sirius on Polyjuice, are you?" And she'd really just said _that_, too. _Way to voice your inner thoughts out loud, Evans._ "Whatever happened to nervous shy Sev?"

"He's still in here, screaming at me for being so bold and cowering in a corner of my consciousness, actually. I've just gotten better at bravado since the last time we were friends. Just as you seem to indeed have improved at this 'massage' thing. But you have to promise not to tell anyone; I've finally got everyone else to think that my sarcasm and razor sharp humor are masking a bitter, hardened shell of a man instead of a nervous little boy." She couldn't tell if this was another of his jokes or if he was actually being serious. She wondered if he even knew.

"Your secret is safe with me," she assured him, running her nails up and down his spine. He shivered and she laughed. "Good?"

"What was your charming expression for it? 'Gyuh,' I believe." Lily brushed Severus's long hair away from his neck so she could work without it getting in the way, and he tensed and stopped speaking. She wondered what she'd done wrong. Or right, as case may be. She stroked a thumb down the curve of his neck, trying to resist a sudden overwhelming impulse to kiss him at the nape. There was some reason she shouldn't, surely… No, too late, not strong enough. Oh, _that_ was satisfying, especially how he hissed when she did it.

"So, having failed to seduce me via mail-"

"Failed? Ha!"

"-you now attempt it in person. Interesting," he continued, unruffled by her interruption.

His skin was smooth and pale and warming under her touch, and she realized how much she'd missed this physical closeness to Sev and the thrill she got when she could make him respond like this. Oh dear. This 'just being friends' thing wasn't working out so well.

"Very well, I surrender to your nefarious purposes. Tell me, though, do you do this to all the boys, or just the ones you want to keep as pets?"

_All the boys? Curious thing to say. As if there was another boy,_ she thought indignantly.

"No, just you." _Boys… all the boys…_Lily mulled this over in her head for a while. _There is another boy, isn't there? Oh, __shite__James! I have to tell him about James!_

Lily pressed herself against his back and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Yeees?" His tone was amused, but cautious. "Is there a reason you're using me as a pillow?"

"You're so cynical sometimes, Sev. Gods, you're just like that Eagles song, 'Desperado', 'walking through the world all alone.' Does there have to be a reason for everything?"

"Yes," he said harshly, "there does." She sighed.

"Fine. Be that way. I- have something I really need to tell you. Something you should know before word gets out and you hear it from someone else." He shook her off him and turned around to face her, expression closed-off and wary.

"So that's why you're trying to 'sweeten me up'." He pulled his shirt back over his head.

"No, it wasn't, actually. But think what you like. Will you promise you won't get mad?" She looked at him anxiously.

"That depends on what you're about to tell me. The mere fact that you're asking me to not be angry implies that it's something I'm not going to like very much," he drawled.

"You'd better give me your wand," she said. "You might be inclined to _Crucio_ someone with it, and while I'm fairly sure it won't be me, I'd rather not take any chances." He raised his eyes to the heavens as if to say _oh, the drama_, but he placed his wand out in the open all the same.

"Lily, what news could possibly be so bad that I'd _Crucio_ you?"

"Well, just remember that you asked…"


	12. Confrontations and Consequences

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 11: Confrontations and Consequences

"_Lily, what news could possibly be so bad that I'd Crucio you?"_

"_Well, you asked… _

I'm marrying James," she said, pointedly _not_ looking at him. He made a noise that sounded like "Grk." His fists clenched. He stared at her, eyes practically popping out of his head. He twitched a little. She didn't stare back. "It's been decided for a while. I can't back out of it now. Both our families know. I'm so sorry, Sev." She looked utterly miserable at having to tell him this.

"You're sorry," he said flatly. She nodded. "That's all I get?" He snorted. "Some consolation prize. Well you can just take your apology and-" he began furiously, then realized it would be unwise to say things in anger. Look where that had got him last time. A miserable year without Lily by his side, that's where it had got him. He choked back the expletive he was about to say. She'd expected an outburst of temper so strong that glass panes would shatter and debris would fly all over the room. Instead, he stalked over to a vase.

"Tang Dynasty." He said curtly. "Priceless family heirloom, from my mother's side." Her eyes widened in horror as he calmly dropped it on the floor, shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces. It was then that she saw the gauze wrapping his forearm and all the pieces of Tang vase that were now ripping it to shreds. He was bleeding, and her first instinct was to pull the now-useless bandage off so she could try to get the shards out.

"Lily, don't-" He began, but it was too late. She was already unwinding it to inspect his arm; she saw the hideous tattoo of a snake winding out of the skull on his forearm, and her heart stopped.

"YOU!" She shouted furiously, stumbling back, pointing at him. "You lied to me!" His eyes narrowed at her.

"Excuse me? _I _lied to _you_? Are you or are you not marrying James Potter?" He spat the name at her.

"You're a Deatheater! You said it wasn't what it looked like; you said you were on our side! But you've got that— that _thing_ on your arm! I was so stupid!" Her sense of betrayal was quickly overwhelmed by her instinctual terror of Voldemort's supporters. "Wait. How do I know you won't kill me for having found out your secret?" He started to step toward her, reassurances on his lips, but she picked up his wand and shouted, "No! Don't come any closer or I swear I'll curse you." She stood trembling with his wand pointed at him, while he held up his hands in surrender, wandless and utterly vulnerable to attack. There was genuine pain on his face for having been put in this position by Lily, of all people.

"How quickly our friends turn against us," he said softly. "How easily they believe the worst of us. How soon love is lost over appearances and misunderstandings. Not once, not twice, but three times was I betrayed by you today, Lily Evans. And still I think the best of you."

"How did _I_ betray _you_?" She said scornfully.

"First, you seduce me to get me in a vulnerable position." Was that really how it looked to him?

"Second, you tell me you're marrying that piece of pond scum to make me lose my temper. And then, to add insult to injury, you forget everything I have ever told you about my faith and trust in you and how I am _not_ what I seem to be, you come into my home and threaten me with my own wand. I applaud you, Lily Evans. Or should I say _Potter_? You are far more deceitful and underhanded than I will ever be." His accusations chilled her to the bone. What if he was right? She hadn't meant for things to get so out of hand, but what if he was right? The bottom of her stomach dropped out.

"Oh, _no_," she moaned quietly.

"If you are going to kill me, for the sake of our friendship, please make it quick." His head was held high and his posture erect. He waited for death or a reprieve. What was she doing? This was Sev, SEV, her childhood friend and the man she… no, she couldn't lie to herself; he was the man she loved. If he said the Dark Mark on his arm wasn't what she thought, she should believe him. She hadn't come here to do this to him. She'd just needed to tell him about James… Lily dropped the wand as if it burned her and collapsed onto the floor, weeping.

"Kill you? I could never… I'm sorry, so sorry, forgive me. This is all wrong, I… I… oh," she whispered. "What have I done?"

"I'm sure I don't know," he said impassively, picking shards of Chinese pottery out of his arm. He'd recovered well from the news that he was not, in fact, going to die.

"The announcement of our engagement goes out in the papers tomorrow," she said from her prone position on the floor. "I wanted you to know before then. You're going to leave now and never come back, aren't you? I knew once I told you that you'd want to leave and never come back."

"I must confess the idea has some appeal. I see no reason to stay for the sake of a woman who claims to be my friend, yet does not trust me and sees fit to marry a man we both despised."

"I do," she pleaded, "I do trust you. I'm just so scared all the time and everyone lies to me, especially James, and I don't know what's going on and I don't even know what's real anymore. I just wish you'd showed me sooner."

"Can you blame me for not choosing to show you, considering your reaction?" He raised an eyebrow in a small effort to disperse the tension.

"No. You were right. You're always right."

"I know," he said, indulging in a smirk.

"Please believe me when I say that I cannot go through with this wedding without knowing we'll still be friends. I don't deserve it, I know. I'm cowardly and weak. But I'm asking anyway."

"So if I refuse, you won't marry him?"

"No, I have to," she said, shaking her head. "I don't have a choice."

"_Why_?" He wondered if he sounded as anguished as he felt.

"You're going to hate me," she said dully, shaking her head. "You're going to kill me, and then you're going to hate me more than you already do."

_I love you,_ he wanted to say, _you can't love Potter, and he's not good enough for you. But I am, because I know you, I understand you! He doesn't know your hopes and dreams and secret fears that you told me when we snuck out at night and looked at the stars. Don't leave me. _All he got out was,

"Lily, please-"

He had never begged for anything in his life before. He had never wanted anything so desperately before now. But he would strip away all his pride if only she would stay. She looked back at him, just as desperate, and started to reel off her excuses.

"James needs me, he's hopeless without me."

"Do you love him?"

"It's what's expected of me, and you're with the Deatheaters now, so this will never work," she continued, ignoring his question.

"Do you love him? Tell me you love him more than you love me, and I'll let you go." She tried to choke the words out several times, but each time she looked at him first, and the lie just wouldn't come.

"I can't tell you that," she said, shaking her head. Snape was ready to thank whatever supernatural powers were up there. Those words taught him to hope as he had never hoped before. He pulled her to him and kissed her, not bothering to give warning, and she kissed him back for a few seconds before she remembered herself and stopped. The connection, the pull between them, was as strong as ever and they were both left breathless and dazed in its wake.

"We really can't," she tried again weakly, "we shouldn't-" But he saw the pleading in her eyes: _tell me I'm wrong. Tell me it can work. _So he did the only thing he could think of, which was to kiss her again, as softly and sweetly as he knew how. He invoked all the experiences they shared, all the budding romance and passion that had been cut short by James's scheme, and all the promises of a future together.

"That was nice," she said breathlessly, "but you don't have to kiss me like I'll break. I hate it when James does that. Demand something of me, won't you?" _Well, _he thought, _she asked for it._ He did not bother to be gentle when he placed a hand on the back of her head and pushed their lips together with almost painful force. He bent her backward as he demanded she surrender to him, open to him, respond to him, and she bloomed for him like the flower she was named after. Lily was so grateful to be kissed this way, like he needed their lips to be touching in order to exist, that she did more than just surrender: she fought back. She took the flavor from his lips and the strength from his tongue for her own while he was claiming and branding and sucking at her skin. She was pretty sure she was going to have bite marks- bite marks!- and swollen lips when she next saw James, but oh, she didn't regret anything.

_She looks beautiful, all flushed and breathing heavily,_ Severus thought. _And I did this to her. She looks like that because of me. Not Potter. Me._

"You don't have to marry him," he said, persuasive and soothing as always. Under the hypnotic spell of his voice, she almost believed it was true. "You can say it was a mistake. People change their minds all the time in engagements, get cold feet and back out. I'm here now. You don't have to settle for James Potter. What is so important that you have to marry a man you don't love?"

"Unexpected pregnancy?" She hid her face in her hands. "I know it was a stupid thing to do, but I can't— and you were gone and I'll have to marry him. He needs me. The baby needs me. It wouldn't be so bad if I'd never met you, but-"

"Has it ever occurred to you," he said through clenched teeth, "that _I_ might also need you?" It was all she needed to hear.

"Oh," she said, sagging into him.

"Marry him if you must," he said curtly. _Only stay with me_, he thought at her, willing her to understand the things his pride would not allow him to speak.

"You're not angry?"

"Not with you. Potter, I'm livid with. Potter, I'd murder in cold blood for taking advantage of you and feel no regret for the deed, except that I know the child needs a father and his sudden death might look suspicious."

"You'd kill James for me? Well, a girl can't really ask for more than that," she said, only half-joking. "Uh- you do know I didn't mean that, right?"

"Lily, I'm really not the monster you make me-" She cut him off by placing a finger to his lips.

"I love you, Severus," she breathed in his ear. "Just tell me— tell me we'll make it out of this war okay, and everything will sort itself out after that."

"Lily, you know I can't honestly-"

"Then lie." He looked alarmed. "Please, Sev," she said, and she _was_ begging. "Just hold me and tell me everything will be alright." So he put his arms around her and stroked her hair and murmured,  
"Of course we'll both make it, and we'll get through this somehow, we always do. You're brave, Lily, you're strong, and when all of this is over I will come and visit you and James and the child as much as you want."

"No. Leave him out of it. I mean, you can see the kid if you want. I'd make you godfather if James wasn't already insisting on Sirius, but- oh, hell. Just kiss me and tell me you love me."

"Look at me, Lily." She held his dark gaze with her green eyes, brimming with tears, and he cupped her face tenderly in both of his hands and said, "you know how I-" He stopped, sounding choked with emotion he was more accustomed to hiding than displaying. "You know I do. More than anything. You give my life meaning." Then she was crying for real, and he started to back off when she said

"Don't you dare. These are happy tears. I'm crying because my heart hurts because I love you so much. Don't ever leave me."

"You have my word."  
Then she kissed him, and he was unsure if they were still pretending everything will be alright and she wasn't marrying Potter or if she just didn't care anymore, but it didn't matter to him. He was sure of it: this night she would let him take her home, because she might never see him again. He would not press the issue; she would make the first move, and like the coward he is, he would let her. One or both of them might die before they ever reached that happy ending he spoke of. So this would be the night on which he would use up all his remaining happiness, and though he did not relish the thought of the dismal years surely to come once his store was empty, he knew it would be worth it; his withered heart would surely love her until the day he died.

* * *

She did not let him take her home then. She would have. She was about to propose it when the Dark Mark flared on his arm, which cut all plans to a halt. He had no choice but to answer its call. During the next several weeks, Lily was kept busy with preparations for the nuptials and Severus with business of his own (namely, joining the Order of the Phoenix). They were unable to meet again before the wedding. 


	13. Unbreakable Vows

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 13: Unbreakable Vows

James was pacing back and forth anxiously, straightening his tie for the seventh time and fiddling with his hair. He waited nervously for Sirius to come back and give him the signal that the wedding was about to begin. He'd never seen Lily in her wedding dress before. He was sure she'd look beautiful. It was just the waiting that was driving him crazy. And then he'd have to stand up there all by himself, waiting for her some more, wondering if she'd come down the aisle at all. James sighed. He just wanted to skip all this ceremony and be married already, but he knew it made Lily happy, and he'd do anything to please her. This was her day. The groom was just an accessory (albeit a very rakish and handsome one), he thought ruefully, turning to face the mirror once more. The lights flickered, and then went off, and James was momentarily annoyed by a power failure now, of all times.

"Guys? This isn't funny, guys. Turn the lights back on. Hey, come on!" James was groping his way in the darkness toward the door when suddenly, a hand he couldn't see wrapped itself around his neck and slammed him up against a wall. He felt a wand tip pressing against his chest, and the rational part of his brain that wasn't shit-scared by his unknown attacker wondered who would want to harm him on his wedding day.

"Who are you?" He choked out. "What do you want from me?"

"Who I am, isn't important," the voice growled, low and sinister. "But _you_ are in a precarious position. Answer me, and answer me well. Your life depends upon it." James tried to gulp, but he was choking. "How well do you love her?"

"Who, Lily?" The wand pressed harder against him. His assailant shook him a little.

"Do not trifle with me. Do you marry her for love, or for the child?" _How does he know about the child?_ James wondered, more terrified than ever. That was a very close-kept secret. Who was this man?

"For love! I mean, both, but love is the main reason."

"Would you swear it on your soul?"

"I…" _Swear it on my soul, or I die. Clear choice. Right, then. _"Yes. Yes, I would. She's _Lily_, how could I not? I love her enough to spend the rest of my life with her, and I'm thrilled about it. Not just because of the baby. Though I'm thrilled about that that too. I just want to marry her today. Is that so wrong?" The hand gripping his throat loosened its chokehold on him.

"Very well. Your love has spared your life today, James Potter. But know this:" and here James wondered if his attacker had cast an amplification charm, because his voice seemed to echo ominously in the darkness, "I will be watching you. If I should witness you breaking your vows, not devoting yourself entirely to her happiness, or treating her as anything less than the goddess she should be to you, _I will know_. And if I must visit you a second time," and the wand was back, this time jabbing into his temple, "you will _not_ be so lucky." In a rush of wind, the man was gone. The lights snapped back on. James rubbed his sore neck and willed his heart to stop racing, wondering just how close he'd come to death.

"James? Jamie?" Sirius's voice came a moment before his body bounded through the door. "Prongs, you lazy arse! What are you doing laying there on the floor? Get a move on, it's your wedding day! People are starting to grumble!" James accepted his friend's hand up, brushed himself off and pushed the experience to the back of his mind. He was marrying Lily today. _That_ was the important thing.

* * *

James and Lily had a beautiful wedding, extravagant as it was celebratory. They had dozens of their closest friends from Hogwarts there, and all James's extended family and most of Lily's. Severus Snape attended. He knew Lily had asked him to be there. She'd sent him a personal invitation, in fact, by owl, and he'd promised never to leave her. He supposed he'd better get used to painful duties as soon as possible. He settled himself in the very back of the hall where the wedding was to take place moments before the groom arrived. He pocketed his wand, smiling to himself. He'd put the fear of God into James Potter today. Or at least the fear of Severus Snape. He had hoped to disguise himself in the shadows, yet as Lily came down the aisle, her father by her side, she searched the crowd discreetly and caught his eye. He never could hide from her. Her eyes lingered on him wistfully as long as she could without slighting James. She seemed to draw in courage from his presence. She faced her groom, her pasted-on expression determinedly cheerful. Only Severus would have noticed that she trembled, perhaps from fear or regret, as she took her vows. Only Severus would have known why James looked so pale and nervous when he swore to love and honor Lily till death.

In his mind, Severus conjured a sudden tornado that whirled through the ceremony and swept Potter away with it before he could say "I do"; in his mind, he leapt up and objected to the marriage on grounds of the bride loving someone else, and the groom not loving her nearly enough. In his mind, he swung from a chandelier (though where one would hang a chandelier in the middle of the forest, he could not say), kicked James Potter in the head with the soles of his hobnailed boots (though why he was wearing hobnailed boots, he could not say), and proceeded to swordfight him for Lily's hand in marriage while dramatic music played (though where he had learnt to swordfight and how the dramatic music was being piped in, he did not know). In his mind, he was a hero. But he was not a Gryffindor, and he was not brave. He did none of these things. He sat in the shadows and watched them marry, and the only objections to the vows were in his heart, and there they remained.

Snape did not bring a gift. The groom was still alive. That was his gift. That he was at the wedding at all was to be another secret between the two of them, him and Lily. And if anyone thought it strange that Lily and James danced to "Desperado," by the Eagles for their first dance as a married couple (since the song was not particularly an obvious, logical choice for a wedding), well, Remus Lupin (who was always rather too bright for his own good) and Severus Snape understood the intended message, and that was enough. Snape listened as the last lines faded away: _you better let somebody love you before it's too late. _Wasn't it already too late? He'd just lost the woman he loved to James bloody Potter. She still loved him, true, but there was no chance for them now.

* * *

"Bloody odd song for them to be dancing to, eh, Moony?" Remus gazed at the bride and groom dancing, arms wrapped around each other, and shook his head slightly.

"She knows what she's doing," he affirmed softly. "I just hope she's right."

"Speaking of right, this wedding's got me to thinking…" Sirius bit his lower lip nervously, then blurted out, "Would you move in with me?" The question clearly caught Remus off-guard. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I practically have already, what with the hissing cockroaches and glowing Technicolor mold in my flat. I stay at your place almost every night. I have a toothbrush there, even."

"I know, but I wasn't talking about for a week, or a month, even. I meant, um, indefinitely. Until you get sick of me. Possibly forever, if we could work it out."

"Oh." Remus was stunned. "That kind of moving in. Right. Well, er, do you know what you're getting yourself into? I mean, the flat'll be filled with books and unfashionable jumpers and…"

"Look, if you don't want to, you can just say so, but don't-"

"Wolves mate for life, you know," Remus said abruptly. Sirius shuffled his feet.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." He reddened.

"Oh!" Remus said again. "Well, if you feel you've thoroughly considered and explored all alternatives and still feel that you'd like to proceed, then I'd have to wholeheartedly-"

"Moony?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up. You think too much."

"Oh. Sorry. Yes. I will move in with you. Permanently, if you'll have me and my inkstains that long."

"Good." Sirius beamed. "That's what I like to hear. Though I swear if you start trying to organize my sock drawer, there will be vengeance. Furry, cold-nose-pressing-up-against-your-leg-while-you're-trying-to-sleep vengeance. Just so you know." Remus threaded their fingers together and squeezed tightly.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

Severus slipped out as early as he could, heart aching, unable to witness any more of the celebration that, for Lily at least, was so clearly false. She was too teary-eyed a bride, and only he knew why she was really crying. It wasn't, as she assured her guests, "because I'm so very happy!" An anonymous messenger slipped him a piece of parchment as he fled. Snape took it without thinking. It was in Lily's slightly cramped script, and he almost dropped it when he absorbed what it said:

_Convinced James that he can go out with his friends tonight, since we didn't have time for a proper bachelor party for him before we were wed. The reasoning isn't important. But please, open your apartment door for me tonight. I have to see you._


	14. The Last Night of the World

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 14: The Last Night of the World

A.N.: Listened to the Jeff Buckley version of "Hallelujah" extensively while writing this, so if anyone's curious, it's totally the chapter theme song. Very stripped down and pure. These lyrics especially: _her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you/ she tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair/ and from your lips she drew the hallelujah..._

* * *

Severus Snape washed the blood off his hands slowly, watching the reddish water swirl round the drain. His personal hygiene had, perversely, improved a great deal since joining Tom Riddle (he never forgot for an instant that the Voldemort persona was concealing a half-blood boy— much like himself— with megalomaniac aspirations); not even he could pass off hair-sticky-with-blood as greasy. Snape was taking great pleasure in his role as dual agent today especially. He had ensured his role as Deatheater was most convincing, as he had been able to use one of his pet curses, _Sectumsempra_, quite frequently. He had not murdered anyone yet, but he had built a reputation as a cruel bastard who toyed with his victims; it was an urge to wound someone, to cause pain, which he had to get out of his system before he saw Lily tonight. And the sudden slashes of blood arced so nicely from _Sectumsempra,_ it was almost artistic. It only wounded, but it would leave nasty scars. He had been an accessory to murder several times already before he turned himself in to Dumbledore for Lily's sake; for the sake of his deception and espionage, he must appear to remain loyal to Voldemort at all times, while secretly feeding him crucial misinformation. Dumbledore had told him he would be an essential part of the Order's campaign against Riddle and his army, and Dumbledore trusted him completely. He knew Snape was obsessed with Lily Potter, and was therefore most easy to control. But, Snape had argued cannily, he had to maintain the illusion of cruelty and bigotry, didn't he? And if he wounded people in the process, so be it. It was all 'for the greater good'. Snape smiled; this spying business suited him perfectly.

* * *

It was 10:13 p.m., and he'd given up on Lily being there. Perhaps she couldn't find his new apartment, though he'd sent her the address in a letter. Perhaps Potter hadn't taken her up on the bachelor party offer, though he always seemed to put his friends first before. Had he really made an impression on Potter after all? _That would be a cold day in hell_, he thought sardonically. The first knock he mistook for the rain pounding on the glass windowpanes, the second he thought he'd imagined, but by the third fevered pounding on the door, he realized he had a visitor. He was uncommonly glad he'd had the foresight to put away his small "shrine to Lily," which included the bloodstained ribbon she'd given him in seventh year, a moving photograph of them from three summers ago laughing with their arms around each other, and a tissue blotted with the imprint of her lipstick. He'd tried to burn it several times, but he'd found he couldn't part with any of the objects, so he just threw a sheet over them and shoved them in a corner of his closet where he wouldn't have to look at them.

"I suppose I am to offer you my congratulations," he said stiffly when he opened his door to find her there, dripping from the rain and looking more alluring than he'd ever seen her— and completely out of reach.

"Please don't," she replied, "unless your congratulations have anything to do with warm clothes and a shot of firewhiskey to calm my nerves."

"I'm afraid I don't keep hard liquor in the house," he reminded her. His eyes darkened with remembered pain and humiliation. "My father exhibited alcoholic tendencies, as you are well aware, and I'd do well to avoid his fate." She blushed in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Sev, I didn't forget-"

"I do, however, have a glass of wine gifted to me; clearly by someone who knew me only minimally and knew my personal history even less, which I have in the cabinet, unopened. Shall I retrieve it for you?"

"Yes, thank you. I've been in such a state all day. Everyone chalked it up to my being the blushing bride, but really… oh, that's good," she said distractedly, wringing out her hair and accepting the wine. She drained the glass in one gulp. One of her hands strayed to her belly and she looked momentarily worried, perhaps regretting the alcohol and its effect on the health of the baby. She shook her head to clear it. Then she sighed heavily and said what both of them had been thinking. "It should have been you." Her gaze took him in, devoured him.

"Right," he said, nervous and completely at a loss for words. "Warm clothes. Er, if you'd like to use the shower, it's through there." He still had no idea why she had come to his house on the night of her wedding. Why did Potter allow it? Did he even know? _I would not be so casual with her affections, _Severus thought. _I would ensure Lily's happiness with me in such a way that she would not wish to leave me, particularly on the night during which we were expected to consummate our love. Potter is a fool._

He was sitting in his armchair when he heard the water shut off from the bathroom. He had not anticipated seeing Lily clad in nothing but one of his old button-down shirts, which hung to her mid-thigh, revealing a fetching expanse of leg. Even in his most private thoughts, he had never dared imagine her like this, flushed from her shower with damp hair in tight curls around her face, wearing his clothing. He distinctly recalled giving her pants. He had also not anticipated her abruptly straddling him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him warmly and enthusiastically on the mouth. Then again, this was Lily, and he'd known her for long enough not to question the strange ideas she got into her head at times. She placed his hand on the inside of her bare thigh, a gesture clearly meant to motivate him to action. It did just the opposite: he panicked when he abruptly remembered this was meant to be her wedding night. She should not be here, and she most certainly should not be doing _this_ with _him_. He tugged on her hair and she moaned into his mouth in appreciation. He mentally kicked himself; he was not going to fall victim to her charms, not now. Severus pulled Lily's head back to get her to stop kissing him.

"Lily," he said sharply, "I don't know what you think you're playing at, but I am not amused."

"I know I'm no good at this seduction business, but _amused_ wasn't exactly what I had in mind." She wriggled atop his lap in a most distressing manner— well, distressing for his mental state. The rest of him was quite happy to have her there.

"Stop that at once!" He exclaimed in a strangled voice, attempting to dislodge her. This just made her cotton-clad breasts bob temptingly in front of him as she planted herself more firmly in his lap. _I am not Hercules,_ Snape thought in dismay. _Why set me these impossible tasks? Let me slay the hydra instead, or bring back Cerberus from the underworld. Do not ask me to resist Lily Evans!_

"I'm not James's tonight, Sev," she said, using what could only be called a bedroom voice, and Snape's brain shouted _cheating! unfair tactics! _as his body shot back, _who cares?_ "I'm yours," she said, and paused for effect. "If you'll have me."

"You're _married_," he explained, as if she could not possibly have grasped the fact. "I no longer have the right." She shook her head at him gently, rubbing her thumb across his lower lip.

"This should have happened a long time ago, but then we were both busy and…" Her other hand slid under his shirt and brushed over a sensitive nipple. A gasp caught in his throat and he tensed more, if that was even possible. "Please, Sev? Please?"

"No, Lily," he said hoarsely for the second time, damning his own conscience to the depths of hell. "You don't know what you're doing."

"Yes, I do," she replied calmly, and kissed the side of his neck where a madly fluttering pulse point was dying for her touch. He groaned audibly, and Lily took the opportunity to note that suffering and pleasure sounded very similar. She looked him in the eyes and smiled.

"I want to spend my wedding night with the man I love." _Just this once, _his body told his brain. _This once to remember her by. For all the lonely years ahead. She's begging you to. You're a gentleman. Don't let a lady beg. _He took a breath to speak. She held up a hand.

"I know you're probably about to say no again, and I'd have to go if you refused me three times, for my dignity's sake. But please consider… you'd be sending me back to an empty bed. James won't be there. And I'd probably spend the entire time crying, which is not how I envisioned tonight..." While she was saying this, she continued to rock her hips against him in a maddening rhythm, and he would have been mortified at how parts of him were leaping to attention, had she not made it very clear that she enjoyed his response. _She just had to mention Potter and all his faults, _he thought. _If I wasn't doomed before, I am now._

"You scheming witch," he said in admiration, "you may have invoked James Potter to get me into bed with you, but you'd best stop thinking of him now." He pulled her in closer to the juncture of his own thighs and branded her with a burning-hot kiss. "The only name on your lips for the rest of the night is going to be _mine_."

"Ooh," she said, shivering in delight. "Keep your promises."

"I always do." He picked her up, carried her into his room, growled pleasedly, and shut the door.


	15. A Heart Divided

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 15: A Heart Divided

It had been a highly eventful night for many couples, the eve of James and Lily's wedding.

James Potter and friends went out for a stag night, more aptly named for him than most, first in human form to a review of lovely scantily-clad witches (which, quite honestly, only James enjoyed, Padfoot and Moony being of a different persuasion and Peter having eyes for no one but his own girlfriend), and then as their animagi for one last night of havoc and mayhem before responsibility set in. Remus went home early, since his animal form was not, in fact, within his control. He therefore missed all the excitement that followed when Peter almost got stepped on and buggered off with an indignant squeak; Padfoot, looking on his forepaw for a watch that wasn't there, barked the canine equivalent of 'oh, is that the time?', turned tail and loped off. James spent the rest of the evening in a local pub belting out karaoke renditions of "When I'm Sixty-Four" and "Lovely Rita" from _Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band,_ much to the consternation of the other patrons and bartender.

After several rounds of competitive Scrabble, an accusation of cheating led to a pillow fight which, in its turn, led to snuggling amidst falling feathers. In this state, Peter Pettigrew timidly asked his girlfriend Victoria if she'd ever entertained the possibility of marrying him some day. She gave him a thoughtful smile, called him a sweet boy and said she'd consider it. Peter reddened happily and conceded that 'Quetzalcoatl', while a proper name and technically therefore illegal, was impressive enough to count on the scoreboard.

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black spent the night involved in their own celebration of their engagement of sorts, something which involved quite a bit of Honeydukes 65 cocoa and scantily clad disco (the former for chocoholic Remus, the latter for Sirius and his evil machinations on the poor boy).

Severus Snape spent the evening and morning in bed. With Lily Potter. After she left, he continued to lie there for quite some time, basking in the lingering smell of Lily and the imprint of her head on his pillow. He resolved never to wash his sheets again.

* * *

The next evening, back with proper groom in hand, Lily dimmed the lights (so he wouldn't see the markings on her body from her previous night's activities), lay back and thought, not of England, but of Severus Snape. A small blissful smile lit her features, and with her eyes firmly shut, she recalled the man who'd given her those lasting red momentos on her pale skin; a shudder went through her as, laying dutifully beneath her new husband, she remembered nails raking down her back and the gasps and moans she did not have to muffle or feel shame for, as she muffled them now. She bit her lip for fear of shouting another man's name mid-coitus, so she made no noises at all. And when James rolled to his side of the bed and promptly fell asleep, she wrapped her arms around herself and recalled Sev's protective embrace. Already she missed him, and already she wondered when and how she could see him again. How had she lived without knowing him like this all these years? Would he still want her when her belly began to swell with James's child? Would the reminder be too painful? Would he try to pretend last night had never happened at all? Lily was not that strong. Lily wanted to remember her wedding night as it had been, with the man she loved, instead of the one she married. She hoped Severus would consent to meet her again, and to write her in the meantime, though it was not safe to do so. She hoped the war would not claim him, as it was claiming so many others around her. She prayed for his continued safety in the most dangerous of positions.

Part of her wanted to reach out to this, the man snoring beside her, and start a life with him as best she could, forget the past as much as it was within her power to do so. It would not be fair to James to do otherwise. Yet the larger part of her heart by far cried out that it would not be fair to herself to deny her love for Severus. She knew she should let him go for his own sake, if not for hers. She should let him find a woman who could love him with her whole heart, as Lily could not; she should release him to find happiness. But she knew he wouldn't go. That, too, would be settling for second-best, and Sev was unwilling to do so. Besides, he swore an oath to her to always stay by her side, and he was a man of his word. As he'd so aptly demonstrated last night, she thought wickedly.

* * *

_Well, that was it, really_, Snape thought, finally deigning to get out of bed and forage for breakfast. James Potter would not be allowed to keep her. It was just that simple. Lily was his now, she'd admitted as much last night. Of course, there was that whole sticky matter of her pregnancy and the imminent danger from Riddle's obsession with that December-child prophecy… he must remember to ask Lily sometime when her child was due to be born. He had a suspicion, but the mere thought of Lily in danger sent icy terror into his bloodstream, and he'd lacked the courage to ask the night before, as they were attending to more… personal concerns. The Longbottoms had one on the way, he'd heard that somewhere. He hoped they had an excellent hideout and a trustworthy Secret-Keeper, if the prophecy was true.

* * *

The summer passed slowly. Severus entrenched himself deep within the heart of the Deatheater camp for two months to discover as much as he could about Riddle's plans, and Lily set up house with James and worried, unable to contact him with no way of knowing if he was alright. James himself was coming home later and later every night, sometimes with wounds she'd have to heal, and sometimes with the stench of alcohol on his breath. Some nights he didn't come home at all, perhaps sensing her agitation. She wondered if there was another woman. He'd always been a charmer in his school days, and she knew they were mostly marrying for propriety. Did he have another lover? Was he in the same predicament as her? She supposed she couldn't blame him, really. They weren't even twenty, and that was far too young to settle down with someone you didn't love.

When Snape returned to the Order of the Phoenix meetings in September with highly confidential information about Deatheater strikes, suspicions of Voldemort's paranoia about immortality and a key prophecy regarding children not yet born, Lily couldn't take her eyes off him. She barely listened while the 'matter of some urgency and delicacy', her pregnancy and that of the Longbottoms, were discussed. She paid no attention when James spoke up and confirmed their child was due in December, and she nodded agreeably when Dumbledore proposed a motion to move them both to undisclosed locations with the help of a Secret Keeper each. Sev was back, alive and unharmed, thank the gods, and she was shaking, she'd missed him so much. She discreetly requested to speak to him further after the meeting for more information on his intelligence regarding her child, and when he inclined his head yes, she drew him down a corridor in the house at Grimmauld Place, pulled him into a darkened room and flung her arms around him.

"You're alright, you're back," she said, feverishly touching his face and his body to make sure nothing was missing.

"I'm fine," he assured her, "as ugly and lanky as ever. Really, Lily, look at me. I'm fine. It's you we should be worrying about now, you and your baby."

"You can't know how afraid I was something had happened to you," she said, hugging him to her as she shook with relief.

"Oh, I imagine I can," he said wryly. "I had no way of knowing you were alright either," he reminded her.

"I missed you," she said, and drew his head down to her lips for a kiss. She started to lead him toward an old four-poster bed when he halted.

"Lily this is wrong."

"The Deatheater is lecturing me on morals, now?"

"We can't continue like this."

"You're absolutely right. We have far too many clothes on."

"You're married to another man, and much as I loathe him, I will not cuckold him this way."

"Why not? He does it to me." Snape's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Then I'll have him killed," he said simply. Lily thought she should probably look alarmed now, but she was pretty sure he was joking, and besides, she was in his arms again and what did a little homicide matter? "I am a possessive bastard." Sev's eyes darkened, and in this light they almost did look black. "I hate sharing you with him."

"Mm," she agreed.

"I could make it look like an accident," he mused. "Many poisons are undetectable when mixed properly."

"Severus," she said warningly. Then she was kissing that spot on his neck.

"Lily, so help me, if you don't stop doing that, I will not be held responsible for my actions-"

"So don't be." Now she was nipping at his lower lip and Merlin, it was hard to think. But this was important.

"It's not that simple." She gave him one of her devastating looks. Those looks made strong men tremble, and weak men like him just didn't stand a chance. _Best to give up now_, he thought._ Save what's left of your dignity. _

"Isn't it?"

"No," he gasped. "I have to hurt your husband first."

"Kiss me now, hurt James later. How does that sound?"

"Not here," he said. "They'll hear."

"Oh, fine." She blew out a sigh and stopped trying to unbutton his robes. They Disapparated.

* * *

AN: due to the timeline I'm using, Lily's child would be born in the winter, not summer, so I'm adjusting the prophecy accordingly. First bit of AU. More to come. 


	16. The Light at the End of the World

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter Sixteen: the light at the edge of the world

"Why can I not rid myself of you?" Snape demanded furiously. Lily was caught completely off-balance. She'd assumed they were Apparating to a more private and appropriate place for their romantic activities, yet the moment they'd appeared, he'd dropped her hand like it pained him. "Am I so weak?" He continued, eyes flashing dangerously. "I have tasted you but once; am I so easily swayed? Why can you not let me be?"

"You wish to be rid of me?" Lily ventured, confused and hurt by this sudden outburst. He should be kissing her, not screaming at her.

"YES!" He shouted. Her eyes widened in horror. "No," he said hastily. "I don't know." He let out a sigh. "I cannot resist you. And I ought-" He broke off, clenching his hands into fists. "There are many things I ought to do and haven't. Cannot." His gaze flickered to her face, then away again. "Where you are concerned."

"I'm sorry," she said, and meant it. "I'd spare you if I could. But I'm afraid I love you too well to spare you, and not enough to let you go."

"Don't ever love me that much," he muttered, clasping his hands behind his back. "That sort of love is worthless to me."

"And I am wholly sick of worthless love," she concurred heavily, staring at the window.

"Potter," he said darkly, inferring her meaning. "Tell me about this unfaithfulness you suspect him of." _So that I may know just how much to torture him before he dies. _

"He's never home anymore, and when he does finally come back at odd hours of the night, he reeks of alcohol or strange perfumes. He's always disheveled and distracted. I can't blame him; I haven't made my best attempt at being the perfect wife," she said, rueful. Snape said nothing to this but nodded curtly. She could see the faint glow of the Dark Mark through the fabric of his shirt, and she knew he would be gone again. She waved him away with one hand, resigned to it.

"Rest assured, he will be discovered and justice meted. These things always manage to sort themselves out," he said ominously. And with a soft brush of his lips on hers, he was gone.

* * *

There were complications in Lily's pregnancy; she bled too much for a healthy pregnant mother, and as a result she was confined to bed rest for the remainder of it. She wrote letters to Sev as much as she could, with a forced cheerful tone that ignored the fact that she was constantly in pain and James was never home. Severus was always too busy or in too dangerous a situation to drop by, but he always sent his love and his concern (he knew there were things she wasn't telling him). She in turn sent her 'best wishes', and she distanced herself from him. She hoped he would not mourn too much if she should die. James came in with a tray of food for her at mealtimes, and occasionally he would sit by the bed while she, in her frustration with being unable to move, debated baby names with him. They settled on Harry for a boy, and Violet for a girl, and neither of them voiced the doubt that mother or child might not make it unscathed through the pregnancy.

In December, she gave birth to a son via Caesarean section. Her labor lasted 26 hours, during most of which she was unconscious and doctors were struggling to save her life. The child was stillborn. The doctors apologized profusely that they could not have saved both her life and the child's, and they apologized again for the complications that practically ensured she would never have children. Some things, even in the wizarding world, could not be helped. She read in the letters from Sev that the Longbottoms had given birth to a boy, Neville. Naturally, she hadn't told him about the stillbirth; his letters were forcedly cheerful too, and he would stop talking about her more fortunate friends if he knew the truth just yet. James quietly moved to a different room of the house and didn't say much to her if he could help it. She let him. Lily didn't feel like going out much, and the letters to Sev slowly trickled out and then stopped altogether. She needed a break from living for a while, if that were at all possible. Severus gnashed his teeth and wished she'd tell him what was going on, but he gave her space.

* * *

Winter turned to spring, James and Lily still never spoke to each other, and one day Lily woke up from her grief-stricken trance and decided she'd finally had enough of living in an empty house in silence. She got out of bed, threw open the curtains and inhaled fresh air for the first time in months. She arranged to meet Sev again and he graciously acquiesced. Lily knew she probably looked awful, pale and gaunt and sad, but she tried her best to look presentable and hide the haunted look in her eyes. She knew she'd lost a lot of weight, which she tried to hide by making herself up and doing her hair as best she could. They met in a neutral place, a teahouse in London down Diagon Alley. She was sipping at Earl Grey, waiting for him, when he arrived by Floo with a bang and a clatter of precious china.

"James and I might be divorcing," she said without preamble as he sat down and she poured him a cup. She'd taken to putting three lumps of sugar in her tea, but she knew he liked his black, without cream or sugar.

"Oh?" He was as still as a statue, but it was an alert stillness. Important things hinged on her answer.

"Harry was stillborn," she explained. "The birth almost killed me. I think I'm sterile now, and James has always wanted to be a father."

"I'm so sorry," he said, feeling utterly inadequate, wanting more than ever to kill James Potter. He tentatively reached his hand across the table and lay it across hers. He kept his comments to himself about how awful she looked. He knew he was no sight for sore eyes, himself.

"It's awful of me, I know, but I felt- almost relieved," she confessed in a low voice so that the other patrons wouldn't hear. They were in a private corner, but she couldn't be too careful when airing her private grievances, even to an old friend. Or lover. "Infinitely sad, yes, but I kept thinking _this boy is going to kill me_. I don't know why." She looked ashen. "It's a horrible thing to think. Does that make me a terrible mother?" She sought reassurance in his eyes, and his thumb stroked across her palm. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

"No, it doesn't. It makes you exceptionally wise. Bringing a child into this dangerous time is perhaps foolish enough, but as it turns out… perhaps you shouldn't- this is classified information and I'm not sure that…"

"It's alright, just tell me. Anything to make me feel less like a monster."

"Very well." Snape took a breath. "Your son would probably have been a target for Voldemort. Something to do with his birthdate and one of Trelawney's real prophecies. I'd explain more if I could." He gauged her reaction carefully, worried she might faint from shock. It appeared, however, that nothing could shock Lily Potter anymore.

"I appreciate your telling me the truth," she said calmly. "It helps."

"It sounds coldhearted to say, but it might be for the best that he didn't survive," Snape murmured, and Lily felt a flood of relief rush through her that she wasn't alone with her doubts. Someone else was voicing what she'd so often wondered. "Your son might very well have killed you." He stated it matter-of-factly. _And I wouldn't have survived the loss. _

That hand that held her teacup trembled and she set it down for fear of breaking it.

"Now I suppose you see why I didn't write to you," she said softly, unable to contain her shivering.

"Lily," Severus said, alarmed. Was she about to cry? He cast a spell of invisibility over them both, just in case, to protect her privacy.

"Would you sit over here, by me?" She sniffed.

"Certainly." Concern knit his brows together and he exchanged sides of the table. He put an arm around her shoulders and stroked her hair; he murmured "it's alright. The worst is over. You're going to be alright," even though he knew no such thing.

"I never stopped loving you, Sev," she said, leaning her head onto his shoulder. "Life just got in the way."

"I know," he said. "I know." This time when he buried his face in her hair, she smelled of peaches and rain and her lips tasted of old promises. Only one obstacle remained between them now, and soon, she would be his.


	17. Bones Floating in the Sound

Wrong Kind of Hero

Chapter 17: Bones Floating in the Sound

In hindsight, perhaps a wise man could have seen all the events converging as they did and played them out differently. Perhaps. It would have taken a far wiser man than he. The events of the summer fell into Severus's lap not piecemeal but all at once, and he had to decide what action to take immediately. There was talk, suspicious talk on James's part, that Peter was a traitor. He was their secret-keeper, and he somehow linked Peter to Lily's unfortunate pregnancy. No one was sure what exactly he suspected Peter of having to do with the stillbirth, but he muttered things about betrayals to the Dark Lord and dark blood magic to kill the baby in the womb. Severus of course knew that no such thing had ever taken place; Pettigrew was innocent of ever having attended a DeathEater meeting. But James was consumed with some dark emotion and beyond reason, and the sight of baby Neville enraged him even further, though Snape appeared to be the only one to notice James's growing obsession. The rest of the Order were too busy fretting about the prophecy and keeping Neville safe. Moody was preparing for battle with all the gusto of an epic good-against-evil knockdown dragout free-for-all in the works, and there were whole wings of Grimmauld Place devoted to offensive spell practice. The world appeared to have gone mad; every day the Dark Lord's raids grew more and more fevered and urgent. He was targeting areas of families with young children, and it was only a matter of time before he stumbled upon the Longbottoms. He was growing careless, too, taking out Muggles and anyone who got in his way, and even the Muggle Prime Minister was growing alarmed and had to be informed of the situation.

Tangentially and simultaneously, Severus was expected to take part in a raid on the Longbottom's house. Voldemort tortured and then _Imperio_ed their Secret-Keeper to no avail; he then resorted to sucking out the man's memories as he died. Convinced that the prophecy could mean no one but Neville, Voldemort was prepared to strike and eliminate the threat once and for all. In the ensuing alert to the Order of the Phoenix and confusion that followed, James's plan to revenge himself on Peter took nebulous shape. James suspected Peter Pettigrew of treachery and was hunting him down; Snape knew for a fact that Peter was innocent. Peter sought stronger men to hide behind; alone, he was weak and cowardly, but he had not betrayed his friends. As a double agent, Snape knew all this, and only Albus could hold him fully accountable for what he knew. He could not be two places at once when Voldemort attacked the Longbottoms; fortunately, he did not have to be. Both his masters required him to be in attendance.

* * *

Snape could hear the screams wrung out of Frank Longbottom, but there was nothing at present that he could do. He saw the flashes of multi-colored light, red and green; he saw James take a mad flying leap toward Peter (who in his turn was helping prevent Deatheaters from entering the Longbottom house) and blocked his shot as best he could.

"I did tell you at your wedding that if you were so unfortunate as not to take my advice, you would not be so lucky if I had to make a second visit to you. Did you think I jested?" He shouted, hoping to distract James from his mission long enough for Peter to escape and run for help. They (the Order of the Phoenix) were clearly outnumbered here, as he'd tried to warn Albus they would be. The old man had a twinkle in his eye when he'd said 'things have a way of working out despite our plans… Neville is loved. We'll accomplish what needs doing with the numbers we have." Damn the man, Severus thought furiously now, his colleagues were being slaughtered all around him and Dumbledore could have prevented it!

"Get out of my way," James snarled. "Pettigrew's mine." A woman's screams were adding to the cacophony inside the house and somewhere, a baby cried. He was needed inside, he was sure of it; he could not stay here and baby-sit Peter Pettigrew. Snape devoutly hoped that the woman screaming was not Lily. He'd lost sight of her in the chaos, but she was somewhere in there fighting, he was sure.

"You are a fool, and soon to be a dead one," Snape muttered, attempting to pass James.

"Are you threatening me, Snivellus? You traitor! You lapdog of evil, just like Pettigrew!" Snape rolled his eyes. Potter could be so childish sometimes, and the loss of his child had clearly driven him half-mad. The battle was evenly matched on both sides, Order of the Phoenix members and Deatheaters and curses flying in the melee. James had Peter cornered, wand raised high. Snape hardly knew what he did; he threw a curse at James, not deadly but enough to send him flying. Time seemed to slow down, and Severus heard the "No!" wrenched from his own lips as if in a dream as Potter fell backward into the stray flash of green light that hadn't been meant for him at all. His body crumpled slowly to the floor. Suddenly, the noise and motion stopped all around him as a shock wave of strong magic rocketed through the house. There was a howl of agony that chilled the blood to hear it, then silence, except for the wailing of a baby. Deatheaters scattered, sensing a turn of the tides not in their favor. Severus pushed through the crowds of wounded and dying to see for himself. Neville Longbottom was still in his cradle, his parents having given up their lives to protect him. He had a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. It appeared that this small baby had defeated the most evil wizard in Britain. Snape scooped the baby up in his arms and spirited him away to see what should be done about his care.

* * *

"Severus, you don't have to hold the child as if it will break." Snape looked doubtful. The boy seemed fragile enough to him.

"Does he have other relations? Grandparents, perhaps?"

"Ah, yes. Indeed he does. A grandmother. Lovely woman, tough as steel. She'll take good care of him." Severus passed the baby off to Minerva McGonagall with relief. He had no idea how to take care of the child; she was a woman, she had nurturing instincts. Neville would be fine with his grandmother. Snape's Dark Mark had not flared once since the battle. He suspected Voldemort was severely weakened, but not dead. He would lie low and recuperate, waiting for a more opportune time to strike. Clearly he was so weakened that he could not call his Deatheaters to his side, a fact for which Snape felt immense gratitude to the young boy. Whatever Neville had done, it was of benefit to them all.

"Perhaps someone should retrieve the bodies," he hazarded discreetly to Albus, who inclined his head. Snape was not one of those sent to identify the dead. He had far too much explaining to do about young Neville. He could not help but feel that Albus was manipulating the poor child, just as he manipulated everyone around him. His plan had worked, and though the Order were important pawns in the game of chess he played against Tom Riddle, they were pawns all the same. Severus felt a pang of sympathy for the child. Neville Longbottom had a hard life ahead of him. But he was alive. He, a defenseless baby, had defeated the Dark Lord. They were already touting him in all the newspapers as the "Boy Who Lived".

* * *

_It was an accident, only an accident_, Snape repeated to himself. He had not killed James Potter. The man had brought it upon himself; the scent of another woman was upon him, and not the tracks of Lily's tears as there should have been while they both grieved for their son. A life for a life. That of an innocent man for that of a guilty one. It was the fairest assessment he could make, or James would have hunted Peter down like the rat he turned into, and Peter was, after all, faithful to _his_ fiancée and his friends, as weak as he was. Peter simpered and thanked him and said he was forever in Severus's debt, and his sweet witch fiancée bombarded him with confectionary as a demonstration of her thanks. Snape shouldered them angrily aside, though he did admit to eating the cookies she baked for him. It was an accident that James fell into a Killing Curse, nothing more. Peter was adamant that Snape had saved his life.

"I didn't do it for _you_," he'd said coldly, wondering how Lily could ever forgive him if she knew what he'd done.

* * *

There was a mass funeral for all the Order members who'd laid down their lives to protect Neville Longbottom, and James Potter got a hero's funeral, which was more than he deserved. Severus kept his opinions to himself, however. It would not do to disrespect the dead. Lily wore widow's clothes. Her back was ramrod straight. She accepted condolences graciously and returned them, and she did not cry. It was raining outside, but after several hours of dwelling on death, the rain was preferable to the atmosphere inside. She stepped outside and saw Snape already soaked to the skin, hair clinging to his face, trying (and failing) to light a cigarette by cupping the flame around his palm.

"Severus?" She said quietly, moving to stand beside him.

"Yes?" He dropped the useless cigarette.

"Hold me, and whatever I do, don't let go." He obliged, since he could deny her nothing, and she sobbed into his shoulder for a long time, tears hidden by the falling rain. Eventually she quieted down and said, shivering into his shoulder, "I'm sorry."

"What for? Grieving? You've lost both a husband and a son." Never mind that Snape had been instrumental in the death of her husband. She would never ask, and he would never tell her. There were things that happened in wars; Lily knew that. For her own peace of mind, she would never ask.

"If Harry had survived, I would have lost them both anyway," she said cynically. "Look at that poor boy Neville."

"Poor boy? He's the only wizard we know of to have survived the Killing Curse. He ended the war, Lily."

"Yes, but he has no parents."

"His grandmother has volunteered to raise him. In a safe and undisclosed location. Until he turns eleven."

"He's not dead, is he?"

"What, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? I doubt it. But we have years before he'll strike again," he said as gently as he could. "Time to recoup our losses. Time to start living again."

"Yes," she said, and held his hand tightly. "I suppose so."

"Come on, let's get you out of this rain."

"Fine, but you're not taking me back in there. I am fleeing this funeral as fast as I possibly can. That body in the coffin isn't James anymore, and to put it quite plainly, it's freaking me out."

"Fair enough. Where would you like to go?" Lily brushed his sopping wet hair back from his face with infinite gentleness. She tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Wherever you're going sounds perfect."


	18. the war is over, and we are beginning

Wrong Kind of Hero

Final Chapter: The War is Over, and We are Beginning

"Wherever you're going sounds perfect." Lily gave him a wan smile. "Home would be nice. But I don't know where that is anymore. So you lead, and I'll follow." She tilted her face up to the rain and let it fall on her, drenching her mourning clothes and making rivulets of water drown out her makeup and her tears. "Provided we can walk there. And step in puddles."

"Alright," Snape said, giving her an odd look as she stepped out of her heels and walked into a puddle in her stocking feet. She hopped up and down, soaking herself further.

"It's that weird energy you get sometimes at funerals," she explained. "Like you're completely inappropriately giddy and you can't stop until it hits you again and then you start sobbing."

"But it's not just your loss in there… it's everyone's," he said softly. "And you just can't look at them right now. I know."

"That's it in a nutshell." She took a deep breath. "Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow!" She shouted giddily into the wind and the storm. Severus wondered if she'd gone mad. "It's from Lear. Not as satisfying as I thought it would be," she commented idly.

"I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, picking up her shoes.

"What for?" She asked, kicking water at him from her puddle.

"Everything."

"Why?" She tilted her head at him, curious.

"Because. If I hadn't- if you'd never met… if I wasn't so…"

"He's dead," she said abruptly, without really thinking about what it meant. "They're both dead. Who knows what might have been 'if we didn't' or 'I never'? Who cares, for that matter? What good does it do to be sorry? They're dead," she repeated numbly. Her knees wobbled under her, and he rushed over, afraid she was about to collapse. "Oh, God," she whispered in a small voice, "they're dead."

He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "But you're alive."

"Am I?" She ran her fingers through his wet hair and watched the water dripping off his broken nose.

"Yes." He said firmly. He took her hand, Side-Apparated her back to his flat, cast a drying charm on them both, and tried not to think about how much this resembled the night of her wedding. At least this time he wasn't offering her his shower… or his shirt…

"How can I tell?" She stared up at him from her place on his couch. "I feel like I could be dead." He put a hand over her heart.

"It beats." He moved his hand up to her mouth. "You're breathing." Lily repeated the motions solemnly, feeling the warm air trickling from his lips, placing her hand on his chest to feel the steady beating there.

"I can't feel it," she said shakily, starting to panic. "I have to be sure. Don't be dead!" She pressed her ear to his chest, closed her eyes and listened for a long moment. "It beats," she confirmed finally, snaking her left hand up to trace his lips. She waited. "You're breathing."

"Therefore," he said, hoping she'd make the connection.

"You're alive," she whispered, swallowing hard. "And the war is over."

"Yes."

"Oh," she said softly, trembling slightly, and then again, "oh."

"Lily? You're hyperventilating. Breathe with me, or I'm going to have to get a paper bag." She gradually matched her shallow, slightly hysterical breaths to his slow steady ones, and after a time, they were breathing in unison until, exhausted, she fell asleep listening to the rhythm of his heart. He attempted to slide out from under her without waking her, but she whimpered in her sleep and reached out for him, and so he stayed with an arm wrapped around her, wishing he could protect her from herself.

* * *

Lily's dreams were alternately terrifying and comforting. First she dreamt that Harry had lived, and that James and she and Harry were a happy family as they were meant to be. In her dream, she had not spoken to Severus since he'd called her a Mudblood in sixth year. Despite that, she seemed to be happy with James. Time passed quickly in her dream, and she was bouncing Harry on her knee when she heard the door bashed in and Death Eaters surrounding the house. There was a scuffle and a thud and an agonized scream from James. She hid herself and Harry in the upstairs closet and hoped against all hope they were not looking for her. Just as the closet door was turning and she knew they would surely be discovered, she felt someone put an arm around her and yank her out of the dream, and she was suddenly somewhere else.

* * *

She was in a garden with Severus, and they were children again, and her feelings of terror abated with him there. She did not question how they had gotten there or why they were eleven again. Such is the logic of dreams. Sev said he wished they'd be together for ever and ever and she promised him they would, even when they got old.

* * *

Then they were older, and they were in someone's bedroom and they were kissing and she was on top of him, pinning him down and he was asking  
"but what about Potter?" and she was saying  
"I broke up with him" and he was saying  
"Oh, that's alright then, marry me," and she laughed and said  
"sure, when you ask me for real" and he said  
"How do you know this isn't real?" In the strange logic of dreams, Lily knew she was dreaming, and she told him so.  
"So what?" He said, eyes sparkling with desire… desire for her. "I've been asking you to marry me every day of our lives if you've been listening."

* * *

Suddenly, she was sitting on a wall with Remus and Sirius, and Sirius's arm was in a sling so she knew it was after the war. They were all watching Peter surfing in the ocean, and Victoria was a mermaid and Peter kept falling off because he was waving to them and distracted. Remus was wearing a crown of daisy chains, his head in Sirius's lap, and he was beaming up at him and murmuring,

"Should we tell her?"

"I dunno, Moony, do you think she's ready?"

"Ready to be happy, you mean? Well, I guess that's up to her." Sirius bent down and kissed Remus softly on the lips. Lily's heart ached. Their love had always seemed so simple, so easy and unquestionable. So very right.

"Easy," Remus snorted, reading her thoughts. "You think it's easy to be a gay werewolf in the seventies?"

"Awoo," Sirius pretended to howl.

"Remus?" She said thoughtfully. "Why is Peter wearing a tutu?" Remus shrugged.

"Says it gives him better balance."

"Ah. And why isn't James here?" Sirius gave her a look. He nudged Moony.

"You'd better tell her."

"He's dead," Remus said simply.

"Oh. That's right. Why doesn't that hurt as much as it should?"

"Because you're dreaming," Sirius said, getting bored with the conversation, "and because you love Snape." He made a face. "Did I really just say that?" Remus stuck out his tongue at his lover.

"Just marry him already, would you, Lily? Or the next dream you have about us, _I _might be wearing the tutu. Or purple chiffon." Sirius gave her his puppy-dog face.

"Pretty please? Moony's smart, he knows these things. Listen to him, okay? So we can get back to _our _dream where I cover him in whipped cream and-" Remus covered Sirius's mouth with his hand, blushing.

"I have no idea what he's talking about," he said guiltily. Sirius nipped playfully at his fingers.

Lily smiled.

* * *

When she woke up, her mind was clear. She felt at peace, stages of grieving be damned. She felt like she'd gone through them all when James had told her he wanted a divorce and she'd already resigned herself to losing him. The life she was leading now was infinitely preferable to being dead, and she felt more lighthearted than she had in years, despite the loss of husband and child. She was free of it, the awful burden of loving and having to hide it or deny it. She was free of guilt and full of curiosity. She was lying atop Severus Snape, who was watching her through sleepy lashes and holding her in the crook of his arm.

"Mm," she said. "Good morning."

"Hello," he returned. "Sleep well?"

"Yes," she affirmed, and kissed his cheek. "You make a lovely pillow." Snape looked away.

"I would have made breakfast, but you seemed to sleep better when I didn't try to move you," he said uncomfortably. Lily made a mental note to owl her friends thanking them for all their help, whether they knew they'd been in her dream or not. Though if they _had _known… Lily shied to think of the whipped-cream ramifications of that possibility.

"That's okay," Lily told him. "I like you right where you are. In fact, if you could just stay here forever, that might be best."

"Are you feeling alright?" Snape asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Strangely enough, yes." She turned to face him. "Look, this is probably an ill time for it, but I feel like I've just dodged a bullet or several, and I want to make the most of whatever time I have left. If the funeral made me realize anything, it was that."

"Lily, are you-" She cut him off.

"Normally it's the man asking this of the woman, and I'm not sure if it's too late, but— I've been a fool, and I've caused you more pain than I ever deserve forgiveness for. That being said, I love you, and I need you in my life. Will you start over with me?" She looked at him anxiously, hoping her dreams hadn't lead her astray and that she'd done the right thing.

"No," he said.

"No?" She looked crestfallen and tried to get up off the couch. He grabbed her and pulled her back down atop him.

"No, I mean that won't do, assuming you're asking me what I think you're asking. Actually, there's a wizarding version of that which is rather lovely-" He moved her over on the couch, climbed off it and got down on one knee. " 'Will you eat at my table, sleep by my side, walk hand in hand with me down the pathways of life, take my heart in your care as I take yours in mine and promise to share love with me all the days we are given?' _That's _a proper proposal. Not, as your Muggles would have it," and he elongated the question so it sounded ridiculous, "'will you marry me'."

"It's beautiful," Lily said, and really meant it.

"And you seal it with a kiss," he told her solemnly. She was happy to oblige. She obliged, in fact, for several minutes' time, until finally Severus held up a hand and broke away for air to speak.

"I've done research into your strange mating rituals, so give me some credit here. I am ill-prepared, but I know there was something about a ring, and something about a diamond." He frowned, feeling around in the pockets of his robes. "Ah, here it is. Your diamonds." He presented her with a beautiful antique silver brooch, studded with diamonds. "And your ring." He slid his signet ring off his finger and placed it in her hand, looking smug and triumphant at having mastered her culture at last. Lily smiled behind her hand, not wanting to tell him the diamond and the ring were meant to go together. She preferred his way- charmingly eccentric, just like the rest of him.

"That's exactly right," she told him, brimming with joy. "I'm astonished that you carried that brooch around in your dress robes for years. Were you keeping it there just in case circumstances necessitated a spontaneous proposal?"

"If I had," he said, "not that I'm admitting to such, but _if _I had— would you call me a lovesick fool?"

"No. I'd ask, 'where have you been all my life?'"

"Right beside you. Or hadn't you noticed?" Her face softened into a loving smile.

"I have noticed. And yes, I will eat with you, sleep with you, walk with you, care for your heart and love you as I should have done, for the rest of my life."

He laughed his 'caught-off-guard' laugh and coupled it with a radiant smile.

"I'd never expected I could be this happy," he remarked.

"I know," she said. "Isn't it incredible?"

"Yes," he said thoughtfully, wondering over the strange twists and turns his life had taken to bring him to this point. "I'd say 'incredible' is exactly what it is."

-End.-


	19. The Living of It

Wrong Kind of Hero, Epilogue: The Living Of It

Lily and Severus had a very quiet marriage, with only a handful of friends in attendance. Lily wore a crown of daisies in her hair and the brooch Severus had given her proudly on display. Severus could not be persuaded to change from his customary black, but as a concession to his bride, he wore a magically-dyed green rose pinned to his robes. As they exchanged their vows in the forest where they'd met long ago when they were children, butterflies perched on nearby branches. As a thank-you to the wisest of all her friends, and a subtle acknowledgment of things beyond the realm of possibility, Lily quietly handed a can of whipped cream to Remus with a small smile. Sirius's eyes lit up, brimming with the possibilities, and Remus gave her a _Look_ and muttered something like "Oh, damn, I was afraid of that." She didn't hear from either of them again for several weeks sans one suspiciously sticky note by owl post that said "Yum" and smelled of whipped cream.

* * *

Severus Snape was determined that Albus tell the whole truth to Neville Longbottom when he was old enough to understand it, holding nothing back. He refused to let Albus manipulate the boy's life as some kind of power-hungry puppet master when he had suspicions about the Horcruxes anyway, and so in the time of peace following the end of the First War, the Order quietly hunted down and destroyed most of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was sorted into Gryffindor and promptly displayed a great affinity for Herbology, Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood. The boy's true courage was never called into question, for he _was _brave. He brought down the barriers of resentment between Slytherin House and the rest of Hogwarts with the help of Severus Snape, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and Lily Snape, Potions Mistress. The marriage between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor was unheard of prior to the Snapes, but it set a precedent for Neville's friendship with Lucius Malfoy's son, Draco, following a wizarding duel demonstration in second year that left both boys duly impressed with the other's skill. The rest of the school followed in the Boy-Who-Lived's example, and befriending Slytherins became all the rage. The Snapes observed his progress and were very proud.

They told him perhaps more than Albus would have liked about the nature of his defeat of the Dark Lord, but in the end, it was that knowledge which allowed Severus to stop working as a double agent and Neville to kill the snake Nagini in his third year at Hogwarts, aided by his friends. In his fourth year, he became Triwizard Tournament Champion alongside Cedric Diggory and watched Luna and Dean embark on their first date. In his fifth year, Voldemort attempted to return, but having no Horcruxes to gather strength from and his most trusted advisor having abandoned him, he was weak. Albus Dumbledore surrendered the Elder Wand to Neville Longbottom after Neville defeated him at a game of Exploding Snap and a vigorous bout of arm wrestling, and it was seen to that Neville properly defeated the Dark Lord without hesitation or mercy, thereby killing the piece of Voldemort's soul that had inadvertently lodged in Neville at the time of his parents' deaths.

* * *

And though it would be trite to say 'all was well', for life is rarely ever easy and nothing goes as planned, for the most part, the Wizarding world was as stable as it ever was or would be. The House Slytherin had redeemed itself, Voldemort was dead, Severus Snape was happy and Neville Longbottom had a second family in the Snapes, who didn't care that he was the Boy-Who-Lived. They just called him Neville. 


End file.
